


Easy As All That (Go Around A Time Or Two)

by sunsetmog



Series: Easy As All That [1]
Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: A levels, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Bullying, Coming Out, First Time, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Sexuality Crisis, Sixth Form, Teenagers being very mixed up about their feelings, Teenagers making poor language choices, Underage Drinking, hangovers, health condition, teenagers making very poor life choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-20 18:05:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 84,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the hardest part of growing up is figuring out who you are in the first place. </p><p>Or: The one where Liam and Louis only kiss when they're on nights out, when it's secret, when there's no one around to see them. If no one knows you're having a sexuality crisis, that means it isn't happening, right? </p><p>Or, or: Liam accidentally turns Louis' world upside down.</p><p>A high school sixth form AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: This could not have been written without the assistance of **bunnymcfoo** , who has been brilliant at picking out things that needed more work. I genuinely could not have fixed this without her. ♥
> 
> Beta duties for chapter one went to **harriet_vane** , someone I love dearly and wouldn't be without. Thank you, darling. ♥ 
> 
> Thank you to those other people who read it along the way, and to my Thursday fannish writing group, who have put up with me saying, I WILL HAVE FINISHED THIS BY NEXT WEEK, I PROMISE, since April. ILU <3
> 
> This was supposed to be a 5k ficlet for harriet_vane's birthday. It is now two months past her birthday and this beast is 85k. I don't know how it happens either. 
> 
> I am posting this in four parts over the next few days, because a) it's very long, b) it's really long, c) it's really, really long. Warnings for two very mixed up boys who don't always make the right choices, and who sometimes make really, really wrong ones instead.
> 
> Note: I don't know specifically how Liam's kidney problems affected his life, so I appropriated my personal experience instead.

**ONE.  
Liam.**

"What are we doing this Thursday?" Louis asked when he came in from maths. He lobbed himself over the back of the chair and plonked down next to Liam, elbowing him in the side as he swept Liam's homework onto the floor—a Louis-approved attempt at saying _hello_ —and then leaned over to steal some of Eleanor's crisps. He waggled his eyebrows at her.

Liam rolled his eyes and made room for him on the seat. It was always easier to make room for Louis, because he took it anyway, and at least this way there was less tickling. 

"Oi," Eleanor smacked Louis' hand away from her crisps. "Get your own. You don't even like pickled onion Monster Munch."

"They're awful," Louis agreed. He licked his fingers, then stole another one as Liam tried to gather all his stuff together and bung it into his school bag and out of Louis' way. "Seriously, Thursday. What's the plan? Anyone got one yet?"

"I still have no idea why we don't go out on Fridays," Zayn complained. He dumped his geography book on the table, and leaned over to grab a Monster Munch before making a big deal of sitting down next to Perrie. She ignored him in favour of carrying on reading her magazine, which Liam suspected was because she was a superior being to the rest of them. 

"Cheaper, innit," Louis kicked his bag under the table.

"Thursdays are the new Fridays," Jesy said, trying to get Perrie to turn the page quicker by poking her in the arm. 

Perrie ignored her, too. Perrie was amazing. Liam wanted to be her.

"Brown's the new black," Harry added. He was texting—as per usual—and didn't look up. 

"And anyway, it's not like we don't go out on Fridays too." Niall slapped Liam round the head—probably by way of greeting, because all of Liam's friends were emotionally stunted and incapable of just saying _hello_ —and leaned over the back of the seat to steal some of Liam's Coke. 

"Nobody is giving me plans," Louis rolled his eyes. "Do I have to do everything myself round here, or what?"

"How about..." Jesy made a face as Perrie deliberately skipped back a page instead of forward. Liam was definitely going to ask Perrie if she gave lessons in thwarting their friends, because he wanted in. "Karaoke? We could go down The Brewers and do the karaoke."

"You weren't there last time we went," Liam said. "They had to come over and tell us to shut up and leave because we were ruining it for the people singing."

"That was amazing," Louis said. "I was amazing. Let's sing the Shoop Shoop song every time we go there. I will be the king of that place, seriously. Liam, you can be my backing singer. My shoop-er."

Seriously, only their lot could get chucked out of the karaoke for singing too loud. "Maybe we should give it a few weeks before we go back to The Brewers. We could go down the Rat and Pheasant, though. Haven't they got a two for the price of one happy hour before nine on Thursdays?" Liam shrugged. 

"You don't even drink," Louis said, wrapping an arm around Liam's shoulders, "and you have the best fucking ideas out of all of us."

Liam didn't point out that staying sober meant you had a bit more of an opportunity to read all the signs on all the walls saying when the happy hours were. He didn't mind not drinking, anyway. It meant you got to watch everyone else make a tit of themselves. Louis was particularly good at that. 

"Nick can get us in to Purgatory for free if we go before ten." 

"Are we ever going to meet this Nick, Hazza?" Louis asked. He didn't remove his arm around Liam's shoulders. "If he's your new best friend, surely you want to introduce us."

Harry put his phone down, and made a grab for his school bag. "Is anyone else coming to business studies, or are you all skiving? And he's not my new best friend, he's just this guy I know."

"I'm coming," Jesy sighed. "Mr O'Connor's going to bollock me, I haven't done the homework."

"Me too, I'm coming," Liam said, reaching for his books. He'd done the homework, at least. It had taken him all of last night, and the night before that, too. No one else seemed to spend as much time as he did doing their work. Harry always did his in about ten minutes flat, and he still got an A. "But let's do that. Rat and Pheasant, and then Purgatory. If we're in before ten we could even get the last bus home."

"Proper good idea," Louis held out his hand for Liam to bump, which Liam did. "I fucking love Thursdays."

Liam just laughed. Thursdays were great. His friends were brilliant.

\--//--

"Come with me to pick up my sisters from primary," Louis said, barging into the ICT classroom ten minutes before the end of the day. "No, don't make that face, I saw Mrs Hughes go into the photocopying room. I know she's not here. You lot are teacher-free." He dropped down onto the seat next to Liam's, and poked his fingers into Liam's shoulder. "I'm babysitting 'til Mum gets back from work. Come to mine and do all the hard work for me."

Liam rolled his eyes. Louis might pretend he didn't want to look after his little sisters, but it was all a giant lie. He was brilliant with them. It was only at school he ever made a fuss about having to do it. 

"Can I stop for my tea?"

"Yep," Louis said. "I'm making sausages, chips and beans."

"I don't like beans."

"Fine." Louis made a long-suffering kind of a face. "I'll do you some peas. You're such a pain, honestly."

Jesy flicked an elastic band at him over the table. "How come you never make me my tea?" she asked. 

"Because you're not Liam," Louis said, and wrapped his arms around Liam's shoulders. "And because he's doing my babysitting for me." He grinned. "Liam, let me log on to my Facebook. You know I can't do it on my phone. Let me use your computer, come on."

"It's banned," Liam said. "Don't make that face, it's not my fault you can't get on to it at school. It's probably you that got it banned in the first place, anyway."

"Those pictures were a work of _genius_ ," Louis said. "It was like a live, high school experience for everyone who couldn't be here. That one of Mr Sansom picking his nose was brilliant."

"Should have used that for the cover of the school magazine," Liam said. Louis just grinned. 

Jesy slid her phone across the table. "Use this," she said. Everyone knew Louis' phone was rubbish. It barely sent texts, let alone anything more complicated than that. He was spending all his free money on driving lessons, so he was making his shit phone hold on a bit longer until he had his licence. Liam just wished that it at least reliably received and sent texts. He never had any idea if he was being ignored or not. "I'm all logged out so don't go getting any stupid ideas about posting on my timeline or whatever."

"Would I," Louis said, doing his best to look innocent. He started to type. "I-love-Louis-Tomlinson-and-I-think-he-is-well-fit-signed-Jesy-Nelson."

"Get lost," Jesy said. "Give me that back."

"I'm not doing anything. I'm just joking. Look, logging in as me and everything." He showed her the phone, then started to scroll down his feed. "Does Niall actually do anything in chemistry? He just posts videos of his experiments all the time."

"If he gets caught, he'll get his phone taken off him," Liam pointed out. 

Louis made the kind of exasperated face he made around Liam a lot. "You're no fun."

Liam kicked him in the leg, just because. 

"Do what you want to do and then give me my phone back," Jesy said. "It's almost time for the bell."

Louis took a picture of Jesy with her phone, and then Liam, and then wouldn't give either of them the phone as he posted them to Facebook. "You love me," he said finally, handing the phone back. 

"Last time I lend you my phone."

"Well," Liam said, because he liked to be fair. "You did choose to give it to Tommo. Not sure what you expected, really."

"Oi," Louis said, ducking down behind Liam to hide from Mrs Hughes as she came back in with a stack of papers, which she started handing round as she explained the homework. "I'm brilliant."

"You're a pain in the arse," Liam said. Like Mrs Hughes couldn't tell that there was one more person in the ICT classroom than when she left. 

Louis poked him in the back until the bell went and they could leave.

\--//--

"Feels like years since I was at primary school," Liam said, once he and Louis had wandered through the school gates in search of the reception classroom, and Louis' baby sisters.

"Well, funny story. It was."

"Shut up," Liam said. This hadn't been his primary school, anyway. He'd gone to Beldon Hill, which had been rubbish. Nobody had wanted to be his friend and nobody had wanted to play with him, so he'd spent most of it by himself and trying not to care. He hadn't met any of the others until he'd got to secondary, and even then it had taken a while to make friends. Everyone else had been here together, and they were all already friends, and he was the quiet, boring one in the corner who didn't know anyone. Then Mrs Gomersall had partnered Liam up with Louis when they were making bridges out of clay pieces in science, and the rest was history. 

"Stay at mine until we have to go out later," Louis said. "It'll be boring if you go home. I'll have to like, watch CBeebies forever."

"I've got my school bag."

"We'll leave early for the bus and drop it off at yours, then."

Liam shrugged. "Suppose." He had actual homework to do, but he did have a free period in the morning before his lessons. Maybe he could just do it then. The good thing about everyone being a bit hungover on a Friday morning was that the common room was at least a _bit_ quieter than normal. Perfect homework conditions. Or, well. Okay homework conditions, at least. 

"Sound happier about it, why don't you. You're spending quality time with Louis 'the Tommo' Tomlinson. People would _pay_ for this opportunity."

"Do you ever feel like you think too much of yourself?"

"Shut it, Liam, nobody cares what you think." Louis grinned at him, and then opened his arms to welcome his little sisters out of infants end of the school. "Hi, Pickle, hi, Onion."

"Those aren't our names," Daisy and Phoebe chorused, stuffing their schoolbags into Louis' hands. Phoebe had artwork, which she handed to Liam. 

"I think they are," Louis said, patiently reattaching each twin to their schoolbag, and taking Phoebe's picture away from Liam. "And Liam thinks they are too, don't you, Liam?"

"Yes," Liam said. "But I can never remember which one of you is which. Which one is Pickle?"

"I'm _Daisy_ ," Daisy told him. "And she's Phoebe."

"That can't be true. Your names are Pickle and Onion. And your brother's name is Sausage. Right?"

Calling Louis _Sausage_ was potentially the funniest thing that Liam had ever said, judging by the way that Daisy and Phoebe reacted. They laughed so much that Phoebe actually had to sit down on the pavement and cling to Liam's leg. Louis didn't appear to find it quite as funny, judging by the way he punched Liam in the arm. 

Liam just waggled his eyebrows and grinned as Louis disentangled his sister from Liam's leg. Louis' sisters were ace. "Come on. Don't you have some other sisters to pick up?"

Louis narrowed his eyes. "You're trouble," he said. 

"Yeah, yeah," Liam said. "Who wants a piggy back?"

"See if I do you peas instead of beans now," Louis said, under his breath, trying to negotiate his rucksack and a small sister. 

Liam grinned, hefting Daisy onto his back. He waited until Louis had Phoebe all fixed on his back, and then they had a race round to juniors. 

Seriously, _ace_.

\--//--

"I'm so drunk," Louis said later, as they stumbled out of the club and into the shopping arcade at some point considerably closer to one a.m. than Liam wanted to actually think about on a school night. Someone was going to have to talk themselves out of a grounding, and it was probably going to have to be him. Louis tripped over his feet, and Liam ended up tripping with him, because Louis' arm was around his waist, and Louis had a vice-like grip at the best of times. "Proper drunk."

"Yes," Liam said, because that was the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, at least for Louis. Liam had been on the lemonade all evening, because Liam was everybody's idea of a good time. Or his non-functioning kidney was, but whatever. 

"We missed the bus," Louis said sadly. Everyone else they were with was already in the taxi queue; Liam could see them at the bottom of the arcade, taking over the taxi rank on East Lane. Jesy and Jade were still dancing, arms wrapped around each other. They appeared to be providing their own soundtrack. This was probably why they weren't allowed at the karaoke any more. They all made their own music. 

"We missed the bus over two hours ago," Liam pointed out. It wasn't that he was pissed off his friends were drunk and hadn't wanted to go for the bus, because Liam liked his friends when they'd been drinking; it was just that they'd planned to get the last bus home, and then they hadn't. Liam couldn't keep getting taxis home, even if they shared them, because it just meant that he had no money to spend on anything else, and his Saturday job was rubbish enough without all his pay going on taxi fares he hadn't planned for as well.

"Don't be grumpy," Louis said. He still had his arm around Liam's waist, and he used it to steady himself as he leaned in to press his fingertip to Liam's mouth. They stumbled into a shop doorway, which Liam suspected wasn't going to get them into the taxi queue any quicker. "Turn that frown upside down, Liam."

"Lou—" Liam said. He had lessons in about nine hours' time. They all did. Well, everyone with a nine o'clock had lessons in eight hours. Liam had an extra hour because of his free period. 

He wasn't even in a bad mood, he was just tired and it was really, really late, and sometimes he wished he could just get drunk every week too, like everyone else. 

"No. Stop that." Louis frowned, shaking his head. "Don't be sad."

"I'm not sad—"

Louis rolled his eyes, and pressed a kiss to the corner of Liam's mouth. He tasted like beer and vodka and sticky quid bottles of luminous alcopops. "Smile," he said a few seconds later, pulling away, and then he ran his fingers through Liam's hair. "Fuck, I'm so drunk."

"I know," Liam said in a dazed voice, even though _dazed_ might not be quite enough to describe how he felt right now. He'd just—Louis had just kissed him. 

"So drunk," Louis said again, and his hand slid down over Liam's belt to graze his arse. He dropped his gaze to Liam's mouth, and then ran his thumb over Liam's bottom lip. Then he kissed him again, letting out a breath as he slid his tongue over Liam's.

This wasn't happening. Louis wasn't kissing him. Except—he _was_. And Liam was kissing back. 

Louis made a grumpy, whining kind of a noise against Liam's mouth. "I'm tired." He shook his head, fingers splayed over Liam's cheek. "Want to go to sleep."

"Can't here, mate," Liam said, covering Louis' hand with his, and trying to pull away, take a step back, go back two minutes to a time when his best friend wasn't kissing him. Seriously. Was he—that was a—he wasn't drunk, but he felt like he might be, all of a sudden. "Taxi rank's that way."

"Yes," Louis said, and maybe Liam was imagining it, but Louis kept looking at his mouth. 

Liam was looking at his, so it wasn't like he could complain. He shouldn't be looking. "Come on, the others will go without us, and that'll be crap."

"Want to go to sleep here," Louis complained, and Liam tugged on his elbow, nudging him back out into the arcade. Niall ran up to meet them, like they hadn't disappeared for two minutes, like everything was just the same as it always had been, like laughing over something that they'd completely missed was totally normal. 

"Did you see Zayn just try to snog Perrie? I fucking laughed my head off when she whacked him one."

"Yeah," Liam lied, letting Niall stand in between them, letting him tell them in great detail of Zayn's great embarrassment, and how he was going to remind him of this forever. Zayn slouched up to them with his hands in his pockets, looking both moody and drunk, and also like he was pretending he didn't fancy the pants off Perrie, and that he didn't care that she'd just turned him down. 

_I don't care_ , Liam thought. He could still almost feel Louis' mouth on his. The way his lips still tingled. The way he'd liked it when Louis had stuck his tongue in.

So... that was a little bit gay. 

He suspected he was supposed to be feeling something other than turned on.

\--//--

"I was so fucking drunk last night," Louis said, on Friday morning. Zayn, Louis, Niall, Jesy, Leigh-Anne, and Perrie were all piled onto the sixth form benches in varying states of hungover, sharing bottles of Irn Bru and looking a bit like lessons were the last things on their mind. The others were no-shows.

"We all were," Niall said, from where he was trying to hide his face in Jesy's shoulder. He was wearing a massive pair of her sunglasses. They were polka-dotted.

"No, but, I was _massively_ drunk," Louis said. He was sitting in one of the only single seats, pulled up to the table, instead of the long cushioned benches that lined the booths that made up the sixth form common room. Liam tried not to notice that Louis kept looking at him from the other side of the booth. "I was off my tits, wasn't I, Liam?"

Liam deliberately didn't think about Louis' mouth on his. "Yeah," he said finally, giving in to the lie. He unscrewed and rescrewed the lid of his bottle of Asda lemonade. His share of the taxi fare had cleared him out, and this was all he could afford from the shop that morning. "You could barely stand up."

"Right?" Louis said, in a tone of great relief. "Exactly. Surprised I can remember we ended up at Purgatory. Mullered, man."

Liam looked away first. So they were playing that game, all right. Liam could play that game as well as Louis, if he had to. The kiss had been over almost before it had even begun anyway—brief enough that if Liam thought about it long enough and hard enough, it was almost as if it had barely happened.

Kind of. Maybe. Or not.

Liam couldn't think about anything else, even if Louis could. 

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to forget what it felt like to kiss him. 

He wasn't sure that he wanted to. And that was probably supposed to feel like a problem.

**TWO.**

**Liam.**

Formation was new; a two storey club that had taken over an old music venue and pissed off virtually everyone in the process.

It was also half-price entry on Thursday nights, and all drinks a quid, with triples two quid. Harry's promise of free entry into Purgatory before ten because of his new DJ best friend, Nick, suddenly looked a million times less exciting, at least to everyone who wasn't Liam—who liked Purgatory, and their music choices—and Harry, whose decisions at the moment tended to involve meeting Nick at places his friends weren't. At some point Liam was planning on pointing out to Harry that he'd noticed that. 

"Rat and Pheasant first, then Formation when happy hour's over at the Rat," Niall said, at lunch time the following Thursday. Liam was eating a ham salad sandwich from home and wishing it was nicer. They'd run out of salad cream, so his sandwich felt sadly incomplete. He only had an apple for afters too, and that was about as boring as they came. Harry was eating a baguette that had turkey and cranberry sauce and brie on it. Liam was trying not to imagine what it tasted like in comparison to his lunch.

"I am going to drink until I can no longer remember what differentiation from first principles is," Louis said, flipping the pages of his maths book. He was still being a bit weird, and it was odd to know that they were very specifically pretending that nothing had happened between them. 

Liam didn't like pretending. 

"Like you can remember what it is now."

"Fuck off, Niall."

Niall just laughed and gave Louis the finger. He chucked a bag of Hula Hoops at him. "Swap you for your prawn cocktail."

"Deal," Louis tossed his packet of crisps across the table. He opened the salt and vinegar Hula Hoops and offered them to Liam. He glanced over at him, crisps still outstretched, and then back down at his page. "You're coming, aren't you? Tonight?"

Liam thought, _I'm a bit gay_. It was the evolution of what he'd been thinking every single time he'd looked at Louis in the last week, but he hadn't said anything about it out loud. But then, neither had Louis. That was the problem with accidental, secret, sexuality-confusing kisses—they inevitably led to confusion. Sexuality confusion. _Secret_ sexuality confusion. "Why?" 

"I don't know, because it's no fun without you?"

Liam tried not to blush a bit at that, and probably failed. He ducked his head and tried to concentrate on his homework. "I'm coming," he said. 

Louis threw his pencil at Liam's head. "Good," he said, which wasn't confusing at all, and then he grinned at the rest of them. "Seven o'clock bus? See you all at the bus stop?"

"Just like every week," Jesy rolled her eyes when the bell rang. "Anyone going to lessons?"

"Me," Liam said, gathering up his stuff, and throwing his sandwich bag in the bin. "Just like always."

"Skive with me and come to the shops," Louis whined. "Come on."

"I'll see you after lessons," Liam said, leaning over to ruffle Louis' hair. 

"I'll come to yours after tea," Louis called after him. "We can go for the bus together."

"Fine," Liam rolled his eyes. "But we're watching Neighbours." He tried not to think about Louis kissing him. 

"Never."

He failed, just like he'd failed every other time he'd tried to think about something else all week.

\--//--

"Do you want some squash, Louis?" Liam's mum called from the kitchen.

Louis dropped down onto the settee next to Liam, and grinned. "Yes please, Mrs Payne."

Liam rolled his eyes. "You're such a dick."

"Orange or blackcurrant?"

"It's not Ribena," Liam said quickly, in case Louis was expecting the nice stuff. Harry had once—years ago—asked for blackcurrant and got something that had tasted like Ribena's very cheap, not very nice second cousin, and had made a face Liam hadn't forgotten. Harry had, but Liam tended to carry these things around like a carefully patched invisible blanket. 

"We never have Ribena," Louis told him, then raised his voice so that Liam's mum could hear from the kitchen. "Blackcurrant, please."

Liam ducked his head and went back to picking at the knee of his jeans with his fingernail. There was the beginning of a hole there. If his mum caught him, she'd patch it, so he'd have to hide his jeans out of the way for a while to save himself the embarrassment of a patch. 

"Are we seriously watching Neighbours?" Louis tried to make a grab for the remote, but Liam hadn't been friends with him for years and not learned something. 

Liam kept a fierce grip on the remote. "Yes," he said. "I'm not changing the channel, so shut up and watch it. It's only on for another ten minutes. Stop whining. And stop making that face. Wind will change and you'll be stuck like that."

Louis burst out laughing. "Oh my god," he said. "Fine. _Mum_."

"Fine," Liam said. 

"Here we go, boys." Mum came in with two glasses of squash. "Are you staying for your tea, Louis?"

Liam thought a bit about how he'd seen his mum peeling the oldest potatoes earlier, and cutting out the black bits. It was the end of the month. He was pretty sure there wasn't enough to go around. 

"No thanks, Mrs Payne. I've had my tea. We had shepherd's pie."

"Smashing," Mum said. "Liam loves a bit of shepherd's pie, don't you, love?"

"Obviously," Louis grinned, making a face at Liam. "Who doesn't?"

"Tea will be about ten minutes, Liam."

"Thanks, Mum." Liam tried to turn his attention back to the TV, but Louis kept grinning at him. "What?" he said finally. 

"Nothing." 

Liam rolled his eyes. It wasn't that they'd been ignoring each other—they hadn't—but they had been ignoring that thing from Thursday night that they weren't talking about. It had been a week, and sometimes Liam thought that maybe Louis really _didn't_ remember, but other times he caught Louis looking at him—looking at his mouth—and Liam knew that he did. He remembered. He just wasn't admitting to it. "I didn't know you were coming round this early."

"I didn't either. The twins were driving me mad. Whose stupid idea was it to give them My Little Ponies for their birthday? I told them that their ponies wanted to go outside and feel the wind in their manes. It wasn't my fault it rained."

"Louis, you _didn't_."

"I did." He grinned. "I went and got them in again, don't worry. They liked having a bit of a shower."

"Sometimes you're a total knob."

"I know." Louis beamed. "Anyway, they cried, and I tried to make it up to them, but then Lottie cried, and Fizz got felt tip on my homework, and then she cried, and Daisy couldn't find her penguin, and everyone was crying, and Mum's banned me from ever touching their My Little Ponies ever again, and told me to come and see if you wanted badgering."

"I don't want badgering," Liam lied. He relented. "Did you really make all of your sisters cry?" That was a bit unusual. Louis was actually a really great big brother, and regardless of how much he pretended he hated babysitting, he was always really good with his sisters. He was always playing with them. He had his own My Little Pony too, not that Liam was supposed to know about it. He'd caught a glance of it in a drawer once, complete with Louis-styled cape and a sign around its neck saying KING OF THE WORLD. 

Louis shrugged. "Kind of, but I didn't mean to. Everyone's in a bad mood this week." 

Louis was in a bad mood this week, that meant. Liam had noticed he was in a bit of a grump. Maybe he was having the same, _do I like boys_ conversation that Liam was having with himself. In Liam's case it was a bit one-sided, because the only answer he could think of to reply with was _I think so_. He didn't know what was going on in Louis' head, though. Nobody ever did. That was the problem. 

"Is Karl Kennedy still in this?" Louis asked after a minute. He pointed at the screen. "Hasn't he been in it forever?"

"Can't get rid of Dr Karl," Liam said. He poked at Louis' bare ankle with his toes. His socks were supposed to be white, but they were more of a grey-ish and sorry about it kind of a shade. "You all right?"

"Course," Louis said, still staring at the screen. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"No reason." Liam gave up poking at him, and went back to watching Neighbours. 

"Dinner's ready," Mum called. "Come and get it, Liam."

"Back in a minute," Liam said, and the moment he was out of his seat, Louis had the remote. 

"Ha," Louis said, brandishing it like a prize. "Got you."

 _Yeah_ , Liam thought. _I think you might have_.

\--//--

Half way through the night, Liam pushed his lemonade across the table and stood up. "Going for a piss," he said, although all of a sudden the only people left at their table were Eleanor and Danielle, and both of them were talking too much to notice him leaving. He liked them both a lot, but they kept having conversations about politics and the government, both of which he didn't have anything to say about. He didn't know anything about politics, and he didn't have much of an opinion on the coalition. Plus, he needed to wee. He patted their shoulders on his way past, squeezing past people on the way out into the corridor, and was momentarily thankful he wasn't a girl when he saw the queue for the ladies.

There was no one in the gents. 

Well, except for Louis, who was standing around not doing very much at one end of the row of urinals.

Liam picked the urinal at the other end of the row and unzipped his trousers. "Hi," he said, because the toilets seemed a funny place to hang around in.

"Liammmmm," Louis said, waggling his dick about. "I have performance anxiety." 

Liam rolled his eyes. There was nobody else in the loos but them. "You are the weirdest person in the history of forever," he said. "Where have you been?"

"Dancing," Louis said, finally starting to wee as Liam finished. "And doing shots with Niall. You seen Harry?"

"He's gone, I think. Did three shots and then disappeared over to Purgatory. To see his friend Nick, probably. Did you see him at all last week? I only saw him from the other side of the room when he was DJing. He doesn't look like he's our age. Do you think he's at uni?"

"Dunno. Didn't see him." Louis zipped up his trousers. He went over to the sink but didn't wash his hands. Liam pointedly ran the water, and Louis waved his hands in the direction of the tap. "I'm really drunk."

"I know," Liam said. 

"Why weren't you dancing?"

"Don't know. Got talking to Eleanor and Danielle." Until they started talking about politics and he couldn't keep up. 

Louis looked at Liam's mouth. "You're not still trying to get back with her, are you?"

"Not since GCSEs. You know that." Liam dried his hands on his trousers for something to do. "You disappeared, earlier."

Someone else came in to the loos, and Louis made a big show of sighing loudly, like interrupting a private conversation in the toilets was a crime or something. He curled his fingers into Liam's sleeve and pulled him out into the corridor at the same time as making a face at the curly-haired student who was trying to jam pound coins into the condom machine. Potentially thankfully, he didn't notice Louis sticking his tongue out at him over the sinks. 

Liam didn't exactly have anywhere else to be, so he didn't protest as Louis pulled him down the hall towards the doors out to the fire escape. It was a dead end. "This is not the way to the bar, Lou."

"I know," Louis stumbled over his feet and pushed Liam up against the wall. "So drunk," he said, and then—Liam didn't even know how it happened—Louis was kissing him again, hand pressed to Liam's cheek, mouth alcohol-sweet and warm. 

Liam ended up grabbing Louis' elbows to keep them both upright, and kissing him back, because, well, he was nothing if not polite and... he liked it. He really liked it. He ran his tongue over Louis' bottom lip, and kissed him again.

"Oh god," Louis said, pulling away a minute later and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. "I need a drink."

Liam almost said, _me too_. He let go of Louis' elbows, and surreptitiously wiped his mouth. "You're wasted," he said, because that seemed like a thing they were doing. Blaming alcohol. And kissing. Kissing each other. _Why_ was beyond him, and he was sober. This wasn't something that they did. He'd never even—he'd never looked at Louis and thought, _I want to kiss you_ , or _I wish you'd kiss me_. 

Not until this week. Now he couldn't stop fucking thinking it. 

"Totally fucking wasted," Louis agreed. His fingers twitched, and he plucked at Liam's shirt with his fingertips. "Come and do shots with us. Just this once. It can't hurt once. Come on."

"Fine, okay," Liam said. It wasn't like he _couldn't_ drink alcohol. You could drink, with one working kidney. It just—for him it never felt very nice, after. Apparently people with kidney problems quite commonly had problems coping with alcohol, or so his consultant said. It usually made him feel quite ill. But it turned out he was probably quite gay, and he wasn't sure that was what he wanted to be. He wasn't sure _what_ he wanted, but there was something about Louis' smile that made his stomach twist up just a little bit, like he was free-floating. It was all a bit confusing, because he wanted that. It turned out he _really_ wanted that. 

Maybe he really did need a drink. 

"You're going to have a drink?" Louis punched the air. "Sweet. Harry will be pissed off he missed this, he loves it when you drink."

Everyone loved it when he drank. His kidney would complain afterwards, but oh well. It didn't happen all that often. He could put up with it. 

"Just like, one," he said. "Or two."

"Two," Louis said, and he cupped Liam's elbow in his hand, pulling him back towards the main room. 

Liam tried to focus on anything other than Louis' hand against his skin. Anything. He thought about Louis kissing him. Oh god. Maybe Louis touching him was better than thinking about that. If he thought about that again, he was going to pull Louis closer and kiss him again, and that probably wasn't a good idea.

"What are you going to have?" Louis asked loudly, over the music, dragging Liam back onto the dance floor and straight through the crowd as the most direct route to the bar. "Tequila? Sambuca? Hey, Niall. Put that pint down, Liam's on the razz tonight."

"Sick," Niall said, necking the remains of his pint and dumping it on the ledge by the side of the dance floor. He wrapped an arm around Zayn's neck, dragging him away from Perrie, who was doing her level best to ignore him, just like always. "Liam's drinking, Zayn."

"Fuck, yeah," Zayn said. "I'll be back, sweetheart."

Perrie rolled her eyes and went back to dancing with her friends. 

"She loves me," Zayn said, bumping his shoulder into Liam's. 

"About as much as the plague," Liam pointed out. He thought it was quite good he was managing to participate in a conversation. His brain felt a bit like mush. He wanted to kiss Louis again. He barely even recognised himself. 

"She gave me her number." Zayn laughed. "I'm wearing her down. Soon she's going to think I'm fucking awesome. I'm winning her over. Fuck, isn't she brilliant? And totally fucking gorgeous."

Niall just laughed, and helped shoulder his way to the bar. "You're wasted."

Zayn draped himself over Liam and Niall's backs. "Perrie's _amazing_."

"I'm going to remind you about this in the morning," Niall said, holding a tenner up to get the barman's attention. "Anyone else got any money? What are we having?"

Louis leaned over the bar. "Four brain haemorrhages, and four triple vodkas and cokes."

"I'm going to die," Liam said. "Like, actually die."

"Shut up," Louis said, elbowing him in the side. "Do you want an Aftershock as well?"

Well, Liam thought. Might as well. If he was going to die, he might as well do it with style.

\--//--

"Jesus Christ," Liam said, ten minutes later. He steadied himself with a hand to the table, and shook his head, blinking. "That's strong."

"It's a triple, dickhead," Niall said, taking a gulp of his, then holding it up to clink against Liam's. They'd downed the shots at the bar, cinnamon Aftershock followed by the brain haemorrhages. Liam hadn't exactly been sure he could be down for anything that involved Bailey's curdling, but it had tasted nicer than the Aftershock, at least. "Down in one."

"Fuck that," Zayn said. He took a sip of his drink through his straw, and set off in a vaguely wobbly line towards Perrie on the dance floor. Niall waggled his eyebrows, and followed him. 

Liam already felt light-headed, and he had the rest of his triple to get through. Louis bumped into his shoulders. 

"Everything's better when you're drunk, right?" he said, and Liam couldn't help it, he dropped his gaze to Louis' mouth. 

"Yeah," he said, and when he looked up again, Louis was blushing. 

Liam looked the other way and bit his lip. He wasn't sure which was weirder; that it turned out he liked kissing boys, or that it turned out he liked kissing _this_ one. 

He downed the rest of his drink, ignoring the beginnings of the tell-tale nausea that was starting to slide across his skin. "It's hot in here."

"Yeah," Louis said. He put his drink down on the table. "Do you want to go find the balcony upstairs? Get some fresh air?" 

To hear him over the music Liam had to duck in, so that his ear was right by Louis' mouth. He nodded, without even really knowing what he was saying yes to. He got drunk so much more quickly than the others, probably because he was usually sober. It was already taking his vision a moment to catch up when he turned his head. He'd always liked that feeling, but he didn't like starting to feel sick, which usually came with it. 

The balcony upstairs was less of a nice place to get a breath of fresh air, and more of a place to die a crammed, smoking related death, but Liam hadn't been lying about how hot it was getting inside. Anything was preferable to the sweat of the dance floor. 

"You okay?" Louis asked, one hand in the small of Liam's back. 

Liam nodded, pushing his way to the edge of the balcony, to the corner where a bald guy with a tattoo was getting off with a girl in a weird, a-symmetrical dress. Louis strategically elbowed them out of the way so that he could lean over the railing to look at the street below. 

"I think I'm drunk," Liam said, after a minute. The bald guy and the girl with the weird-shaped dress had gone back inside. Louis didn't step away into the space they'd left. His elbows kept bumping into Liam's.

"I know I am," Louis said. He folded his arms and leaned further over the balcony. Two girls were stumbling out of a taxi and into the club. He waved at them. 

Liam laughed, and ducked his head. His clothes always looked really weird when he was drunk. He blinked a few times because the stripes on his shirt kept getting further apart and then closer together. "I'm going to be so ill tomorrow."

"Don't think about tomorrow," Louis said, and he reached over and ran his fingers through Liam's hair. "Your hair's so great."

"Shut up."

"No," Louis said, and then he smiled kind of ruefully and leaned in. "I just—" he pressed his mouth to Liam's, alcohol-sweet and sticky. "I think I'm really drunk."

"Yeah," Liam said, not moving away. He swallowed, and tilted his chin up. He was the one that initiated the kiss this time, slow and a little uncertainly. "Tomorrow's going to be rubbish."

"Stop thinking about tomorrow, for real." Louis stroked his fingers through Liam's hair again, and Liam trailed his fingers down Louis' side until he could rest his hand on Louis' hip. This wasn't what best friends did. It didn't matter that they were drunk; Liam wasn't stupid. 

He shifted the angle a little, head to one side. His gaze flitted between Louis' eyes and his mouth. 

"Yeah," Louis said, and Liam kissed him again. 

Louis tugged him away from the edge of the balcony, into the corner, where it was quieter. He laughed, hands around Liam's wrists. "Being drunk is bloody brilliant."

"Yeah," Liam said. He felt kind of sick after all those drinks. "I should probably go home."

"No," Louis complained. "Shut up, that's rubbish. You're rubbish, shut up."

"I don't feel very well." That was starting to be the understatement of the year. 

"Really, shut up," Louis said. He crowded Liam back against the wall, smile wide, and Liam couldn't help but respond to that in kind. "You want to stay here with me. Admit it." He grinned, and darted in for a kiss. 

Liam tried to ignore the rolling nausea in his stomach that always happened after he drank, and met him halfway. He wasn't going to pretend for a second that kissing Louis was anything short of brilliant, even if his kidney was complaining. 

Louis laughed into the kiss and rolled his hips forward against Liam's, and—

—well, that was a dick that didn't belong to Liam. 

Liam slid his hands down over Louis' arse and pulled him closer, grinning as Louis kissed him again.

 _Pretty damn gay_ , Liam thought, and kissed him back.

\--//--

"How are you feeling?" Liam's mum asked the following morning, as Liam leaned blearily against the fridge whilst the kettle boiled. He'd never wanted to go to school less.

"Rubbish," Liam said, which was the understatement of the year. He'd barely slept, just like virtually every other time he drank, and he'd spent a good couple of hours curled up in a ball feeling rotten. This morning his back was killing him. It wasn't his back, he knew that, but whatever. It felt like back pain. 

"How much water have you drunk?"

"A bit." Not enough. 

His mum made a face at him and reached past him to get a water bottle down from the cupboard. "Fill that, drink it, and then fill it up again. Got your painkillers?"

"Taken them," Liam said. "Not kicked in yet."

"Have some toast," she suggested. "What have I told you about drinking, Liam?"

"Not on a school night?" 

She rolled her eyes at him. "I know everyone else is doing it. Would you walk off a cliff if you saw everyone else doing it too? Don't give me that face. But you have got lessons today. And exams coming up."

"They're only AS levels. And I don't do it every week. Not like everyone else." He knew how important his AS levels were. He was already doing twice as much work as everyone else for them. He wished he didn't have to, but that was the way things were. No point complaining just because it took him longer to read things than anyone else, and longer to check that his work was actually in English at the other end.

"I know." She popped two pieces of bread in the toaster. "And I know it's a pain, don't get me wrong. But is it worth feeling this awful afterwards? Being like everyone else?"

Liam let his mind wander towards the twenty minutes he'd spent getting off with Louis on the club balcony last night, before Liam's nausea had kicked in for real and he'd had to give in and go for the last bus. Unlike last week, everyone else had decided to go with him rather than get taxis home later. "Sometimes it is."

"I don't want to ban you from going out with your friends," his mum said. "But your first priority should be your schoolwork, and I don't want to see a repeat of this every Friday morning, all right?"

"Fine," Liam said. On the bus on the way home last night, he'd ended up sitting next to Perrie because she'd dragged him down onto the seat next to her so that Zayn couldn't, and Louis had sat behind him and drawn pictures over Liam's shoulders with the tip of his finger. Just before they'd got off the bus, Perrie had curled into his side and asked in a whisper if he thought Zayn really liked her, and how he'd treat her if they started going out. _He'd be good to you_ , he'd said as they got off the bus, thoroughly aware that Zayn was watching them and frowning. _He really likes you_. 

Her brow had cleared at that, and she'd kissed him on the cheek before running off to join the others walking home in her direction. 

By the time he'd turned around, Louis was right the other side of the car park, with Niall and Danielle and Jade. None of them lived in the same direction as him. He'd ended up walking home with Zayn, who was being weird with him, and sort of not talking to him—probably because he'd sat next to Perrie—and then he'd ended up trying not to throw up by the side of the road, and retching onto the grass. Good times. 

"Drink more of that water," his mum said. "And eat your toast."

Liam nodded, feeling rotten, and wondered if it was all worth it.

\--//--

"Hi," Louis said, from where he was sprawled across the whole of the bench seat in their booth in the sixth form common room. "I think I'm dying."

"I think I might actually be too," Liam said. He pushed Louis' feet out of the way and sat down, leaning forward a bit to stretch out his back. The painkillers were supposed to be slow release, but this was a bit rubbish. They could slowly release a bit faster, surely?

"You okay?" Louis asked, poking him in the thigh with the toe of his Toms.

"Yeah," Liam lied. "Or no, you know. Back hurts."

Louis made a face. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Liam said. He wasn't. This whole gay realisation thing had crept up on him a bit out of nowhere, but he wasn't about to wish away the three times he and Louis had kissed, even if it did mean he felt like death this morning. He wondered if they were going to talk about it this time, or just pretend it had never happened, like last week? Would it be terrible of him if he hoped they could just put it off until he felt less like the walking dead? Because that would be nice. Both feeling less like the walking dead, _and_ getting to talk about all of these feelings he was having. About Louis. Best-friend-Louis. Who happened to have a penis that Liam had started to like thinking about. 

Yeah, life was taking Liam in ever new and bizarre directions. 

"You were really drunk last night," Louis said.

"Lightweight," Niall agreed, coming over and dumping his bag on the floor by Liam's feet.

"Leave him alone," Danielle said, rubbing the back of Liam's neck. It felt nice, so he didn't tell her to stop. 

"Nrgh," Liam said, helpfully. Danielle did a lot of dancing, and she had always been _great_ at ironing out the knots in his muscles. Just because they'd broken up before GCSEs didn't mean that he didn't miss this. Luckily breaking up hadn't meant that they'd had to stop being friends. 

Danielle laughed, and pressed her fingertips into his shoulders. "You're like one giant knot, Liam."

"Slept terribly," Liam said. He dropped his head so that she could massage his shoulders. 

When he looked up, Louis was watching him, and frowning. 

"Cheer up," Niall said. "Just think, you could be Zayn. He's getting blown off by Perrie for the millionth time, look."

Over by the doors, Perrie was doing a very good job at rolling her eyes at Zayn. Liam sort of thought that Perrie really quite liked Zayn, so everything about their courtship was just one, long, baffling puzzle to him. 

Zayn dropped to his knees and tried to beg. 

Niall snorted. "He's so fucking gone over her."

Perrie laughed, shook her head, and walked away. 

Zayn climbed awkward to his feet, and came over, grinning. "I'm winning her," he said. "Anyone got any paracetamol and Irn Bru?"

Fridays, Liam thought, were always the same. 

"I'm going to lessons," Louis said, picking up his rucksack and heading for the door before the bell had even rung. "See you all later."

Well. Apart from that.

\--//--

Louis bought him a chocolate cornflake crispy cake from the bakery at lunchtime.

"Thanks," Liam said, once Louis had handed the bag over. "Um. Did I ask for this?"

"You weren't feeling well," Louis said. "Therefore. That."

"Oh," Liam said. "Right. Brilliant. Thanks."

Harry looked up from his phone and made a face. "Didn't you buy me one?"

"Are you poorly?" Louis asked, and waited for Harry to shake his head. "Then no."

"I'm not poorly," Liam said. He still felt quite rotten, but he couldn't help but think that this was self-inflicted. You couldn't be poorly if it was your own fault. And frankly, he wasn't an idiot, and he knew he'd got drunk partly in the hope of being able to pull Louis again—which he had—so even feeling like this, last night still ended up in the plus column. 

"Shut up, Liam," Louis said, and sat down next to him. "Eat your chocolate crispy."

Liam looked down at his knees. "I was a bit drunk last night."

Louis looked anywhere but at him. The common room was busy for a Friday afternoon, when everyone tried to sneak off home early, even if they had lessons last thing. Free periods really were the best thing about sixth form, bar none. But right now, everyone was being very loud, and Zayn was trying to sing _you're the one that I want_ at Perrie, and there were crisp packets everywhere, and sandwich wrappers, and school books, and homework, and half-drunk cups of tea. "Me too. That's the point of going out though, innit?"

"Sometimes," Liam said. He picked at his chocolate crispy, offering a bit to Louis. "I wasn't _that_ drunk, though."

Louis shot him a quick look. "Eat your cake."

"Right," Liam said. "But you know, um, like—I wasn't that out of it."

Louis sat on his hands. "Oh," he said. "I can't really remember."

 _Oh_ , Liam thought. _Right_.

"Anyone want to go to the cinema tomorrow?" Harry asked, over the din. "Iron Man 3? Nick's friend can get us half price tickets if we have a drink in the bar first."

Liam was totally broke, and he had to work first. "I'm in," he said, because what the fuck ever. "So long as it's after I finish work."

Harry looked at his phone. "There's a showing at eight, apparently. Meet there, six-ish?"

Liam didn't finish at the shop until six, but the cinema wasn't that far from work. "I'll be there," he said, and virtually everyone else said yes, too. He didn't hear whether Louis did or not. 

He ate his chocolate crispy cake in vaguely depressed silence, and tried not to focus too much on the fact he'd really rather have a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend, and how if he got to pick, he'd really rather like it to be Louis. 

But the thing was, Louis was still pretending none of it was happening, and he was still pretending that to _Liam_ , and somewhere along the line, that had started to hurt.

**THREE.**

**Louis.**

"Get the washing in, will you, love?" Louis' mum asked, once tea was over on Friday night, and Daisy and Phoebe were in the middle of a very long and protracted conversation about whose Peppa Pig towel was who's. "Darlings, those towels are exactly the same. It doesn't matter which one is which."

"It does," Daisy said mutinously. "This one's mine."

"It's _mine_ ," Phoebe maintained.

His mum looked harassed.

"All right." Louis scraped up the remains of his bananas and custard and stood up, still holding the bowl in his hand. He dumped it by the sink on the way to the back door, shoving his feet into his mum's crocs by the door. Anything was better than getting in the middle of a Peppa Pig argument. His sisters could be surprisingly long-winded. 

Next door's kids were out playing football in the back garden again; one of them, Adam, the youngest, clambered up and stuck his head over the fence. "Lou, give us our ball back. Sam kicked it over before and it went by your shed."

"I didn't," Sam yelled, clambering up next to Adam and elbowing him. "It wasn't me, it was Tim."

Tim was the eldest brother. All the boys were loud and annoying and couldn't keep their balls in their own garden. One of them had once tripped Lottie up on purpose, and Mum had stormed next door to have it out with their mum. They hadn't done that again. 

"Keep it in your own garden, all right?" Louis dropped the washing basket by the line and went to have a poke round by the shed. They only really kept their bikes in there, and the lawn mower. They weren't exactly keen gardeners, and the grass came up to his knees round the side, where he could see the ball by the hedge. "My mum will kill you if you put it through the shed window again."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam said. "Come and have a kick about, Lou. Be in goal."

"Can't, I'm going out." He hadn't been planning on it, but he could phone Niall or Zayn and see what they were up to. One of them would be up for meeting up, he was sure. His traitorous brain suggested texting Liam, but Liam always did homework on Friday nights, and anyway, Louis had no idea what to say to him. He was having enough trouble just looking him in the eye.

"Rubbish," Adam said, holding his hands out for the ball. Louis passed it over the fence, and stood there for a minute, watching Tim practice keepy-uppies. Louis hadn't done that for a while. Maybe he should see if anyone wanted to go to the park in the morning, play a bit of footy. Get things back to normal. Pretend the last couple of weeks had never happened.

"Oi, Tim, stop that. Give us the ball." Sam tried to get in the way of Tim's keepy-uppies. "Stop being so fucking gay."

Louis winced. 

" _Sam_ ," the boys' mum called, from their back door. "I heard that. No swearing."

"Sorry, Mum!" Sam kicked the ball away from Tim. "You're so gay."

No one told him off for that.

"Shut up," Tim said, chasing after the ball. "You're an idiot."

Louis dropped back down onto his side of the fence, and went over to the washing line. The peg bag was an old hot water bottle cover shaped like a Clanger. It had used to make this weird noise whenever you pressed its stomach, but the battery had run out, and Mum had hooked a hanger in it and started using it for a peg bag instead. He started unpegging the washing and dumping it into the basket. 

_Don't think don't think don't think_. He unpegged his pants from the line and dropped the pegs into the Clanger. _Don't think about Liam_. 

A couple of mistakes didn't make him gay. They didn't make him anything. He wished he could just forget the whole thing, and that everything could go back to the way it had been before. Before Liam looked at him differently. 

Before he looked in the mirror and saw someone looking back who'd liked kissing another boy. 

It was starting to spit. He doubled his speed, dumping the remains of the washing down into a pile, and jogging inside to avoid the rain. Next door, the boys continued playing out regardless. 

He put the washing basket down onto the table, and made for the stairs. 

"Uh," Mum said. "Where do you think you're going? That washing isn't going to fold itself."

"I'm going out," Louis lied. He needed to see Niall, or Harry, or Zayn. Or one of the girls. Anyone who'd remind him what normal was. He just needed everything to be _normal_ again.

"You can go out when you've folded the washing and spoken to your dad. He's on the phone with the girls now; he'll want to speak to you."

"Urgh," Louis complained, but he started folding the clothes out of the washing basket anyway, five separate piles because he could never tell which were Daisy's clothes and which were Phoebe's. None of them could, his mum included, so they mostly shared anyway. "Fine."

Mum leaned in to kiss his temple. "Thanks, Lou. You know I'm grateful."

He knew. It wasn't why he helped round the house—he did that because he was the oldest, and someone had to try and lighten the load his mum had to cope with every flipping day, and if his dad wasn't around anymore then someone had to step up—but sometimes he wished he could just stop being the responsible one. Niall got to just hang out in front of the TV and play computer games at his house, but then there was just him and his dad and his brother, so it was easy there. "Do you need anything else doing?"

"Just the washing up. I'll make a start on that after the girls have gone to bed, though."

"No, I'll do it. Before I go out."

His mum smiled. She looked tired. "Thanks. You're my favourite son."

"I should hope so," Louis told her. In the living room he could see his sisters passing round the cordless phone. It'd be his turn soon. He never knew what to say to his dad. He was the man of the house now, and he'd taken it on because his dad had left. Part of him wanted to remind him that he should be here, he should be the responsible one, and he shouldn't have been the one who left. Sometimes Louis didn't want to be the one his mum relied on. 

"I'll make us some tea, before I go and make a start on running baths for the twins."

It never ended.

Lottie ran in with the phone just as Louis was folding his t-shirts. "Here you go," she said, shoving the phone into his hand. Louis cradled it between his ear and his shoulder as he finished up with the washing. 

"Hiya," he said. 

"Hi," Dad said. "How's things?"

"They're great. Everything's great." Was this Lottie's school shirt, or Fizzy's?

"School?"

"Same old."

"When are your exams?"

"Summer. AS levels. Ages away. Well, a few weeks." Close, really. 

"But the work's all going okay?"

Louis shrugged. "I suppose."

There was a pause. Louis hadn't quite forgiven his dad for leaving, yet. He didn't miss the constant arguing, but he hadn't exactly chosen to step into his dad's shoes. 

"You're helping your mum out when you can?"

"Yep. I'm helping her."

"That's good."

"I know." His dad might not know what a man had to do to look after his family, but Louis did. He knew. He wouldn't let his mum down. Someone had to make sure his mum was okay. "I've got to go and do the washing up, now."

"Oh, all right. You always were a busy one, Louis."

"Yeah." Louis didn't know what to say. "Do you want to talk to the girls again?"

"We've said our goodbyes. It's all right."

"All right, then." Louis said goodbye, and hung up. He stared down at the phone for a bit, and then started to gather up all the clothes. He'd take them up and put them away, so that Mum didn't have to. 

Being someone his mum relied on was a lot harder than he'd ever anticipated.

\--//--

He didn't quite make up a couple of five-a-side teams for the park in the morning. Harry—who was the worst football player Louis had ever seen—was the first to reply to his text, followed by Jesy and Jade and Zayn and Danielle and Niall and Perrie. Liam worked in a shop on Saturdays, which made not inviting him easier. Or rather: inviting him, and knowing he'd not be able to text back until his lunch break, which would be too late.

Seriously, if he could just stop thinking about Liam for _five seconds_ , then he could get a handle on getting everything back to the way it was, before he'd made a couple of really stupid drunken mistakes and almost fucked everything up. 

He was late leaving the house because he'd forgotten he'd had an early driving lesson booked, and had ended up eating breakfast with the twins when he'd got back. By the time he'd made a mad dash to the park, ball under his arm, everyone else was there, sprawled over the grass by the oak trees in the corner of the park. 

"Hey," Niall said, making room for Louis to sink down next to him on the grass. "Where've you been?"

"Driving lesson. Booking my test soon." He grinned at everyone. "You all ready to get beaten?"

Jade rolled her eyes. "You know we love you, but you do remember that footy's a team game, right? You can't beat all of us."

Louis laughed, and flexed his muscles. "Player of the match, baby."

Perrie was busy plaiting grass into a bracelet to tie around Zayn's wrist. "How are we picking teams?"

"Take it back to the old days," Louis said. "Ip dip doo."

"Oh my god," Jesy said. "Bagsy me doing it. Everyone in a circle."

"I can't believe we're picking teams with ip dip doo." Harry shook his head. "Does anyone actually remember how it goes?"

"I do," Zayn said. "Ip dip, dog shit, fucking bastard, dirty git, you are not it."

"We're not doing that one. We're doing the proper one. Everyone stick a foot in." Jesy waited whilst everyone moved into a circle and stuck a foot in so she could go round. "Ip dip doo, cat's got the flu, dog's got chicken pox and out goes _you_. Harry, you're team one. Ip dip doo, cat's got the flu, dog's got chicken pox and out goes you. Jade, you're team two." 

"I want to do my rhyme," Zayn whined. "It's well better than yours."

"Shut up," Perrie told him. Zayn shut up. 

In the end, Louis ended up on a team with Harry, Perrie and Zayn. He sacrificed his jumper for one of the goal posts, and jogged into the middle of the pitch. This is what he needed, something to take his mind off kissing Liam. He didn't even know how the first time had even happened. He'd been drunk, and Liam had just been there, and Liam was like, objectively hot. No one could deny that, because it was _true_. Kissing him had just been, like—it had been an accident, and it had been _nice_ , but everyone kissed their friends when they were drunk. No one cared about one stupid, drunken kiss—no matter how good it had actually felt. 

Going back for seconds, though. And thirds. People cared then, or they would, if they knew. Seconds and thirds were gay, and Louis wasn't gay. He wasn't. 

Liam was just his best friend, and for two nights of Louis' life, the lines had got all blurred and messy, but it was okay, because this was still completely fixable. Nobody need ever know that Louis had ever had a minor, not-quite-straight aberration. Everything was going to be just fine. 

Niall jogged over and blew his whistle. "Ready to play?"

"Where the _fuck_ did you get a whistle from?" Zayn asked. 

"Bought it special," Niall said. "Everyone ready?" 

He blew it again, and Louis kicked off.

\--//--

Afterwards, they took over two picnic tables by the café at the other side of the park, and ate ice lollies, and Louis made everyone take a vote to see who was man—or woman—of the match.

Perrie won, and Louis leaned over to give her a hug. "Be brilliant, Pezza."

"I always am," she said, sliding an arm round Zayn's shoulders at the same time as pulling Louis into her side. "Didn't you already know this?"

"I did," Zayn said. 

Whipped. _Whipped_. Louis leaned over and smacked him round the head, just for a laugh. "I've got to go," he said. "Said I'd go to the shops with Mum."

"I'm going too," Niall said. "I'll walk with you. Got to do some stuff for my dad before tonight."

Oh yes, the cinema. Where Liam would be. 

He hated feeling this weird around Liam. They'd been best friends since year seven, and ever since then, the five of them—Harry and Zayn and Niall and Liam and him—had been virtually inseparable. Things had only started to change in year ten, when getting a girlfriend seemed more important than playing footy, and he'd pursued Eleanor, and Liam had started holding hands with Danielle in the playground. But now, even though it was all of them hanging out together, the girls and the boys and them, it was always Liam he texted first. 

Maybe one day he'd be able to look back and laugh at how mixed up everything was right now. At how he couldn't stop thinking about Liam, even now, even when he was walking down the street with Niall and knew that he couldn't ever kiss Liam again. No matter how many times he thought about wanting to. 

_I'm straight_ , he told himself. _I'm not gay_. _He's my best friend, and that's it._

"Look at this," Niall shoved his phone under Louis' nose. "This is my chemistry experiment from yesterday. It's fucking sick. Like, I can't fucking wait to get to uni and do this all day every day."

"You'll be a mad fucking scientist," Louis agreed, even though he couldn't really concentrate on the video Niall was showing him. 

"Yeah," Niall said. "You still not figured out what you want to do at uni yet?"

Louis shrugged. "Drama, maybe? I don't know. There's still time to figure it out." UCAS applications didn't have to be in until the beginning of year thirteen. He had months. He didn't really like to think about leaving home, anyway. He didn't know if his mum would be able to look after his sisters by herself. Maybe he wouldn't go to uni. Liam always said he didn't know if he'd go. 

Maybe they could stay here together—

Fuck. _Fuck_. He had to stop this. It couldn't happen. 

"I'm late," he said. "I'm going to have to run home."

"Fine," Niall said. "I'll see you later, then? In the pub?"

"Definitely," Louis said, and he ran all the way home, pushing himself harder and harder, until his chest ached and his muscles burned, and he wasn't thinking about the feelings he had for Liam anymore.

\--//--

On the way home from the supermarket, Elton John started playing on Radio 2. Louis leaned forward to change the station; whenever Elton John had come on before, his dad had said, _what an old queen_ , and switched to something else.

"No," Mum said, stopping him. "I like this. Leave it on."

"Oh," Louis said softly, and looked out of the window the rest of the way home.

**FOUR.**

**Liam.**

"Nice shirt," Louis said, when Liam came back from the bar with a Coke.

"Shut it," Liam said, sliding into the booth next to Zayn. His W.H. Smith shirt wasn't exactly what he'd planned on wearing to the cinema, but he didn't have anything else to wear. "I forgot to bring a t-shirt to change into."

"Sexy," Niall said. "Where's Harry?"

"Gone off to meet this Nick bloke for the half-price tickets."

"Think we're ever going to meet him?" Liam liked meeting people, and even though Harry laughed it off, it was obvious from space that this guy was different, and kind of special. Liam didn't know if he was special in the way that Louis was starting to be to him, though. It wasn't like they talked about stuff like this. Harry didn't normally keep secrets, and he didn't normally keep his different groups of friends apart. They'd all met Harry's friends from outside school. Way too many times, actually. Some of those guys were dicks. 

"Maybe he's imaginary. Maybe when you thought you saw him DJing at Purgatory, he was just a mirage," Louis said. He was sitting in between Perrie and Jesy. "Who else is coming tonight?"

"Jade's at her cousins', and Leigh is babysitting. Danielle's gone to the theatre. Eleanor's at her gran's."

"Just us, then." 

"Pretty much." Zayn grinned at Perrie. "You ever going to go out with me?"

Perrie rolled her eyes. "If you stop asking for ten seconds, then maybe."

"Get in," Zayn said. He didn't fist pump, which Liam considered a win overall. 

"The more you do that, the less chance you've got of me actually saying yes, by the way."

Zayn mimed zipping his mouth shut, and grinned. "I'm silent. Promise."

Perrie just laughed, and Liam met Louis' eyes over the table. Maybe Zayn really did have a chance with her. 

Just for a moment, it was like he and Louis had forgotten that things were supposed to be a bit awkward between them since Thursday night, and everything was just the same as it always had been. Then Liam swallowed, and Louis looked away, and immediately started talking to Niall about the football. 

Liam really wasn't happy with the way things were starting to go. Maybe on Monday he'd get Louis to one side and see if they couldn't at least pretend things weren't weird. At some point over the past few years, Liam had come to rely on Louis being a bit of a knob just to get him through the day. It was starting to be like being in year nine all over again, when they'd gone through that phase of fighting about nothing and not talking to each other for days at a time. 

He didn't miss year nine at all. 

Harry didn't come back for ages, and when he did, he was brandishing a handful of tickets. "You all owe me four quid," he said, handing the tickets round. 

Liam fumbled in his wallet for some change. "Nick not coming in?"

"He's working," Harry said. "I'm going to see him afterwards."

"Well," Liam said. "Tell him thanks."

"Will do," Harry said. 

"We ever going to meet him?" Louis asked.

"Yes, of course. At some point. Probably."

"That's cleared that up, then."

"Shut up," Harry said, sitting down next to Louis. "Someone buy me a drink and tell me I'm fantastic."

Louis snorted, and stood up to go and get him a drink.

"You're fantastic," Liam said dutifully, and dodged Harry's attempt at smacking him round the back of his head. 

When Louis came back, he was holding a drink for Harry, a rum and Coke for himself, and a Coke for Liam, even though Liam hadn't asked him for anything. He slid it over the table to Liam without saying anything, and Liam looked down at his lap and said an awkward _thank you_. 

"They've got giant Jenga over there," Louis said, totally not looking at Liam. " _And_ no one's playing on it. You think we should go and beat everyone, ever, at it?"

"You've got delusions of grandeur," Perrie said, already climbing over him, Jesy following. There was something about giant games that turned them all into kids again. Potentially that was how they'd broken Connect 4 in The Brewers that time, but nobody spoke of that. Particularly not The Brewers, who'd subsequently closed down their games corner. Louis wore that honour like a crown.

"They're not delusions, baby," Louis said, and Zayn hit him, just for fun. 

Louis snorted, grabbed his drink, and headed across the bar without looking back to see if Liam was following. 

He was, obviously. 

Harry bumped his elbow into Liam's, and grinned. "You playing, or watching?"

"Watching," Liam said, very deliberately avoiding staring at Louis' arse as he reset the Jenga tower. "Are we sure giving Louis weapons is a good idea?"

Louis smirked at him over his shoulder. "I'm going to be the Jenga king, baby."

"Yeah, yeah," Liam said. "I think Perrie's got other ideas."

"I have," she said. "I'm going to win."

Thing was, Liam believed her. 

They didn't leave the bar for the cinema until way too late, because it turned out they were all _really_ bad at giant Jenga, so when they got to the screen, the trailers were already playing and virtually every single seat was taken. 

"Bugger," Perrie said, stopping short at the front of the cinema. She was probably getting in everyone's way, but at least it was only the trailers. 

"Crap," Louis said. "Looks like we're not all sitting together."

"Baggsy not sitting alone," Jesy said, hooking her arm into Perrie's. 

"Me neither," Louis said. He grabbed Liam's arm. "There's two at the back there, we'll take them."

A little bewildered, Liam let himself be dragged up the steps. "See you after," he called over his shoulder, to the frantic shushing of some terribly boring people in the audience who seemed to think that trailers were something you should be quiet through. They probably thought beige was a good colour scheme and that darts was an interesting sport to watch on telly. He should feel sorry for them, probably. Louis was rubbing off on him. Either that or he was so baffled by Louis _wanting_ to be alone with him that he was accidentally channelling him. He threw a few _sorrys_ after him for good measure.

"Scuze me, scuze me," Louis said, tripping his way down the row for the two seats in the corner by the wall at the back. 

Liam followed with apologies, because that really was the kind of thing he liked to do. Some of his popcorn spilled into someone's handbag. He stumbled into his seat, and handed his stuff to Louis. "Hold that a moment." He shrugged out of his jacket, and then stole the popcorn back.

There was a very good chance that everyone in the vicinity hated them. 

Louis bumped his elbow into Liam's and leaned in as Liam got himself sorted out. "Good spot, or good spot?"

"Great spot," Liam agreed. "Did everyone else get seats?"

"Don't care. Gimme the popcorn."

"It's my popcorn."

"What's yours is mine," Louis said. "Hand it over."

Liam rolled his eyes and handed over the popcorn. 

"You're my slave," Louis said, way too loudly. 

Liam didn't say anything to that, but he let Louis keep the popcorn, just leaning over to take a handful instead. Louis waggled his eyebrows and bumped his elbow into Liam's. 

They'd finished the popcorn by about ten minutes into the film, which was actually fairly slow for the two of them, and then Louis dropped the empty bag onto the floor and nudged him again. 

"What?" Liam hissed. 

"Nothing," Louis said, and Liam grinned, turning his attention back to the screen. His elbow kept bumping into Louis'.

A minute later, Louis' hand slid over Liam's knee, and all Liam could think of to do was to go terribly, terribly still. "Lou."

"Shut up," Louis said, leaning over to whisper in his ear, "or tell me to stop."

Liam swallowed. He didn't want to say _stop_ , so he said nothing at all. After a moment, Louis' hand moved a little further up Liam's thigh. His breath was warm against Liam's ear. 

Oh god, what the hell were they doing? This was _mental_. Proper mental. He let out a ragged breath, and turned his head, just enough that he could catch Louis' eye in the darkness. "Lou," he said again, soft enough that he couldn't be heard over the noise of the film. 

Louis looked down to his mouth and back up again. 

Liam balled up all of his courage in his hands, nudged forward, and kissed him. 

Louis sighed into the kiss, and in between one breath and the next, he kissed Liam back, hand still splayed over Liam's leg. Liam touched his fingers to Louis' cheek, and Louis made a soft noise against Liam's mouth, and shifted in his seat so that he could run his hand up the inside of Liam's thigh. 

Liam squeaked, and blushed as his dick started to take an interest in proceedings. 

Seriously, what were they doing? Louis had only had two rum and Cokes; there was no way he could write this off as being drunk. He couldn't even taste the rum in Louis' kiss, just the sweet/salt of the popcorn. Around them, the speakers blared and the film carried on playing, and Liam wasn't paying attention to any of it. He could only focus on Louis' hand on his thigh, and his mouth. Oh, shit. 

"What are we doing?" he asked, in between kisses. 

"Having a good time," Louis said, which was a lie. Like, Liam might not be the sharpest knife in the box, but he knew as well as the next person that you didn't get off with your best friend in a crowded cinema just for a good time. It was fucking _Iron Man_ , for a start. 

Shit, Louis was picking kissing him over watching Robert Downey Jr, and it was possible that he was Louis' idol. God. 

Liam—awkwardly, and a little shyly—put his hand on Louis' thigh. There wasn't really any coming back from the whole gay thing anymore, at least not for him. The tiniest, vaguest possibility of one day coming into contact with someone else's dick was turning him on approximately one hundred million times more than he'd ever felt at the prospect of getting close to a girl and getting her naked. The realisation wasn't scary. Admittedly, he was getting to kiss someone he accidentally really fancied, and that was taking up the majority of his brain capacity, but that wasn't really the point. Not that he'd ever really thought about it, but he'd always sort of assumed that realising you were properly, one-hundred-per-cent gay would come with peals of thunder and bells, but the reality was more like something in his brain shifting a little to one side, and finally slotting into place. 

It was even quite nice really, the way things made a bit more sense now. He never really had been all that into putting his hand up Danielle's skirt. He'd always assumed it was because he liked being the perfect gentleman.

Then Louis covered Liam's hand with his own, and moved it up to brush over Louis' dick through his jeans, and Louis was _hard_. And everything Liam thought was true just tipped over and upside down in his head, because—oh god. He'd just touched Louis' dick. 

Louis pressed Liam's hand down against his erection, and Liam tried to keep quiet, he _did,_ but everything about this that wasn't him realising he was gay was totally overwhelming. Being gay was fine. Touching Louis' dick in a crowded cinema wasn't. He made a strange, strangled kind of a whimper, and Louis shut him up with a hissed intake of breath and a kiss. 

"Quiet," Louis breathed, against his mouth. 

Liam nodded, his mouth dry. He swallowed. "Do you want to—" he didn't know what he was asking. They couldn't do this here. "Go somewhere else?"

"Now?" Louis didn't say anything for a moment. "Miss the film?"

Liam shrugged. His hand was still touching Louis' thigh. "Yeah, I don't know."

"Okay," Louis said, after a while. "You go first. I'll follow in a minute."

"Right," Liam said, a little awkwardly. He grabbed his jacket and held it over his half-hard dick, and then made everyone in their row move so that he could get past them. Then he jogged down the steps, not looking to either side, and ducked his head and went out into the corridor. He slipped behind a cardboard cut-out advertising the new Star Trek film, and tipped his head back against the wall. Shit. _Shit_. What the fuck were they doing? What if Louis didn't follow him? What if their friends had seen him leave? Liam didn't like hiding, and he wasn't that keen on secrets, but he and Louis hadn't even talked about what it was they were doing. Part of Liam really didn't want to let everyone else know about something he didn't quite understand himself, either. If they could just _talk_ , then everything else might start to sort itself out.

A couple of minutes passed, and Louis didn't show, and Liam couldn't help but think, _oh_. He dropped his shoulders, and wondered what to do. He couldn't go back in and sit back where they were, and he didn't think there were any more seats. Maybe he could just text Harry and tell him he wasn't very well, and go home? He'd got as far as trying to unzip his bag when Louis barrelled in to him and covered Liam's mouth with his own.

Liam managed a very dignified _ummph_ , and dropped his bag on the floor. It seemed more than natural for his hands to find their way to Louis' hips, and for Louis' hands to slide into his hair. "Aren't we going to—" he said, in between kisses.

"No," Louis said firmly. "No talking."

Liam's heart did a tiny, downward-swooping sort of a thing in his chest. "Right," he said. He kissed the corner of Louis' mouth, and Louis shifted so that he could take Liam's bottom lip in between his teeth. Nobody had ever done that to Liam before. It was nice. It might have been nicer if he wasn't quite so caught up in Louis determinedly refusing to acknowledge this was even happening. Maybe they should just go back in and watch the film. 

Louis rocked his hips up so that his dick brushed Liam's. He still had an erection. "You want to go outside?"

Liam's mouth was dry. Um. "To the car park?"

"Round the back," Louis said. "Where they get the deliveries. There's a road but it doesn't go anywhere. Just here."

Liam didn't ask how Louis knew that, but whatever. Part of him wanted to say _no, not whilst we're not talking about this_ , but the rest of him just wanted to kiss Louis more. Even if they were keeping this a secret. "All right."

Louis nodded, and ducked down to grab Liam's bag and his coat. He set off for the escalators without checking to see if Liam was following, and Liam wasn't stupid. He knew that Louis was deliberately not looking at him. 

They'd known each other a long, long time. 

This felt like such a bad idea.

He followed him down the escalators and outside. 

It was pitch black round the back of the cinema. Liam couldn't help but think about being back inside, watching the film he'd paid actual money to see, but Louis just grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the way of the street lights. It was dark and quite cold, but there was nobody around. They probably didn't get that many deliveries on a Saturday night. 

"Here," Louis said breathlessly, pulling Liam further into the shadows. He dumped Liam's stuff on the ground beside them, tugged on Liam's hand, and drew him in for a kiss. 

It was way too easy to let Louis lead this, and to just go where Louis wanted him to. Liam wanted it such a lot, after all. He didn't know when he'd started wanting Louis so much, but whenever it was, it had grown to the point where it was—at least for Liam—way more than just drunkenly pulling on Thursday nights. 

For a start, it was Saturday. 

"What are we _doing_?"

Louis slid his hand over Liam's shoulder, and round to the back of his neck, drawing him down and into a kiss. "This," he said, a breath away from Liam's mouth. 

_Okay_ , Liam thought, and kissed him back. Whatever. They could talk afterwards. They _would_ , too. Liam wasn't going to let this slide anymore. Just—afterwards. Afterwards. He ran his hands down Louis' sides, anchoring himself to Louis' hips, nudging him back against the wall. 

Louis' mouth felt urgent against his, heavy and hard. Full of intent. When he tugged Liam closer with a hand to his arse, it was easy to stumble forward, further into his embrace. His dick was getting even harder, and Louis rocked his hips up, his erection rubbing against Liam's, and every part of this was new to Liam. 

"I'm so hard," Louis told him, in between kisses. He fisted a hand in Liam's shirt, pulling him even closer. 

Liam just couldn't get over the fact that a) Louis was hard and b) Louis was _telling him_. Liam had worked so hard at being the perfect gentleman when he'd been going out with Danielle, and Louis—well. Louis didn't seem to give a fuck about any of that. Louis rocked his hips up so that his dick dragged over Liam's, and Liam made a strange, high-pitched whimpering noise even before he knew he was doing it. 

"Ha," Louis said, in satisfaction. Liam fought the urge to roll his eyes and tell him to sod right off. "You're as hard as me."

"Yeah," Liam said. He hoped the _duh_ was obvious.

Louis slid his hand down between them, and cupped Liam's dick through his jeans. "How's that?" 

Liam had stopped being able to manage actual vowel sounds. "Good," he managed, after a moment of trying to remember how to talk. 

Louis undid the top button of Liam's trousers, and kissed him again. 

He always had known how to shut Liam up. 

Liam slid a hand into Louis' hair and cupped his face. He wanted this to say, _I want you so much_ and _please be mine_. 

He wasn't sure that Louis was listening. 

"Do me," Louis said breathlessly, biting at Liam's lip before running his tongue over Liam's. He rolled his hips up, erection bumping against Liam's hip. He was undoing Liam's flies, and Liam couldn't process this. Louis was trying to get to Liam's dick, his actual dick, and Liam really, really wanted him to. Was this going to be his first time? In a dark road round the back of the Odeon in town? This wasn't how he'd planned it. 

In his head, there might have been candles. And a bed.

Louis shoved his hand into Liam's pants and wrapped his fingers around Liam's dick, pushing his pants out of the way. 

"Shit," Liam managed, because he had his dick out in an delivery area. "Oh, shit."

"Do me," Louis urged.

Liam obeyed, because he didn't know what else to do. His dick was in Louis' hand. He fumbled with Louis' flies, trying to get his belt and his t-shirt out of the way, and he was all thumbs. He couldn't—why wouldn't it, fuck; he got the zip undone, and Louis was kissing him again, one hand on his dick, the other cupping his jaw, and Liam didn't get to see the moment he managed to free Louis' dick from his pants. One moment he was struggling with jeans and cotton and then, one breathless minute later, he had Louis' dick in his hand. It was so soft to the touch, and hot, and a part of Liam—a part Liam had never known about before now—just wanted to press his tongue to it and see what it tasted like. 

"Fuck," Louis said, before kissing him again. Liam didn't know what to do with the dick in his hand, other than play with it a bit. He was so fucking bad at this. He was such a fucking virgin. He'd always assumed that Louis wasn't, not that he'd explicitly told him otherwise. Not that it mattered, because Louis was batting Liam's hand out of the way and trying to wrap his hand around both their dicks at the same time. He rocked his hips up and his dick dragged over Liam's, and—oh god, _that_ was what that felt like. Like, _hot_. And dry. "Touch me, Li."

And Liam wanted to, he really wanted to. He stroked his hand over Louis', feeling him whimper into Liam's kiss. That was what power felt like, making Louis make sounds like that. He kissed him again, leading it this time, deepening it a bit so that he could feel Louis' ragged breaths against his mouth. He pushed him even further back against the wall, bracketing him as best he could, shifting position so that he could push his dick into Louis' fist, the tip stroking over Louis' stomach. It was messy, and _they_ were a mess, confused and unsure, but all Liam wanted was more. He kissed him again, and again, until everything was wet and breathless and ragged, his hips moving jerkily as Louis touched him awkwardly, hand fast and dry on his dick. 

There was the beginning of an orgasm starting to slide across Liam's skin, starting low in his belly, urgency building in the pit of his stomach. He stole another kiss, and another one, Louis's mouth spit-slick and breathless. Everything was quiet around them; it seemed so far removed from being in the middle of town. It was so dark, and so still. Inside Iron Man 3 was still playing, like everything was just the same as always. Like he wasn't having sex with his best friend. 

His orgasm slid closer, and Liam did what he could to hold it off, but then Louis caught his bottom lip in his teeth, and something about it made Liam's belly twist and his hips rock up, and then he was coming, all over Louis' hand, crying out as he did so.

"Christ," Louis managed. His voice caught. "You came."

Liam's rhythm on Louis' dick faltered, and he tried to hide his face in Louis' shoulder. His breath was hot and ragged against Louis' throat as he fumbled with Louis' dick, wanking him towards his orgasm. Louis wrapped his arms around Liam's shoulders and held on tight, and Liam couldn't help but hold him up against the wall, mouthing his appreciation in to Louis' skin. It was so intimate, and they were so close, and it was _Louis_. He was losing his virginity to Louis. 

When Louis started to come, Liam held him up against the wall, streaks of come hitting the back of his hand and the waistband of his pants. 

He kissed him, breathless and sweet, and Louis kissed him back. 

Yeah, this was what he wanted. This. Louis. 

"Wow," he said finally. 

"Yeah," Louis said. He fumbled with his pants, pulling them up and doing up his zip. He tried to straighten his shirt, and Liam followed him, tidying himself up and wiping his hand against his stomach. 

"We're a bit of a mess," Liam said, which was the truth. He didn't want to think about what the wall had done to Louis' back. "Is your—"

Louis kissed him again, cutting him off mid-word. He kissed him with an oddly slack kind of urgency, open-mouthed and spit-slick. He shifted their positions, turning them around so that Liam was up against the wall, the brick rough against his back. His hands fisted in Liam's shirt and he kissed him again.

Liam kissed him back, over and over. 

In the end it started to get too cold to stay outside, and even though Liam hadn't exactly considered that this would ever be an option, he was tired of kissing. His lips were chapped and the skin around his mouth roughened and sore from Louis' stubble. He rubbed his sleeve over his mouth and wished he had some Lipsyl in his pocket. It was the kind of thing his mum always had in her handbag. 

"You want to go back inside?" he asked. He was shivering. His jacket was on the floor somewhere, and so was his bag. He'd forgotten them, what with all the kissing, and the getting out of their dicks, and the losing of his virginity. Sort of. Did it count, wanking each other off in a delivery area on a Saturday night? It felt like it might. It felt like he'd just had sex.

"Suppose," Louis said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "You couldn't have shaved?"

"Came straight from work," Liam said. "You couldn't have shaved either?"

"I did," Louis said, but Liam's mouth felt sore and uncomfortable. It hadn't felt like he had. 

"Hey," Liam said, and he reached out to curl his fingers into Louis' shirt. "Come here."

"The film—" Louis said. 

Liam tugged him nearer. "Bugger the film." He pulled Louis into a hug, one arm around his shoulders, the other around his waist. "I'm cold."

"That's because we're outside," Louis said, and he didn't hug Liam back. Liam hugged him harder, just because, and after a minute, Louis relented, and wrapped his arms around Liam's back. They fumbled a few steps in the darkness, an uneasy dance routine where Liam shivered into his arms. 

Liam touched his mouth to Louis' throat, an open-mouthed kiss. 

Louis tipped his head back, and rubbed his palm over the small of Liam's back. 

They kept moving, a weird, off-centre dance in the night-time. 

When Louis finally kissed him again, it was gentle, and soft, and slow. Liam kissed him back, and didn't let go. He slid a hand into Louis' hair. 

Louis stroked his fingertips over Liam's back, and held on. 

It didn't matter how cold it was getting, or how long they'd been out here; Liam didn't care. 

"You're so great," he said eventually. He pressed his mouth to Louis' throat. "Really, really great, you know?"

Louis stiffened awkwardly, and stepped backwards, out of Liam's arms. 

"What?" Liam asked. 

"Nothing," Louis said, rubbing his arms. "Cold. We should go in."

Most of the film would be over now, anyway. God knows how long they'd been out here. "Do you think they'll let us back in?" he asked uncertainly. Louis' shoulders were hunched up, and it didn't feel like it was entirely due to the cold. Part of him wanted to reach for Louis' hand, but Louis' body language was giving off enough _don't touch me_ vibes that Liam didn't exactly want to try. What had changed? Two minutes ago, Louis was hugging him, and now he was stepping out of Liam's arms and out of his way. Liam didn't understand. 

"They might," Louis insisted. "We could try."

"Are we, um—" Liam started. "We could talk." They _should_ talk.

"Let's try to get back into the film," Louis said, already setting off back around the front. Liam was left trying to gather up his bag and his coat, and running after him to catch up. 

They wouldn't let them back into the screen because there was only fifteen minutes left of the film, so they leaned on the wall by the Pick and Mix and waited for everyone else to come out. Louis stared down at his phone, and didn't look up, not even when Liam said his name. 

"Did I, um—" Liam tried not to look as awkward and as desperate as he felt. "Did I do something?"

"It was cold," Louis said, not looking up from his phone. "It was freezing cold, Liam. Of course I wanted to come inside."

"But—"

"What did you want me to do? Stay out there and freeze?"

Liam looked at his hands, and tried not to think about how, half an hour ago, they'd been wrapped around Louis' dick. "No," he said. "Course not."

"Well then. Don't be a cock."

"Oh," Liam said. He didn't understand what just happened. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, and his hand smelt like come. And Louis. And them. Oh god, what if he had it on his shirt, or his hand, or—he couldn't ask Louis. Louis was determinedly not talking to him, staring down at his phone like it was the most important thing in the world. Liam wiped at his mouth again, checking his jeans for stray stains. He pulled his shirt out over the top, and fumbled his coat on, covering himself up. 

He couldn't think of anything to say to make it right, so he didn't say anything at all, and neither did Louis, so they just stood there in silence, waiting for the others to come out. 

Everything about tonight felt like a mistake.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by the wonderful **harriet_vane**.

**FIVE.**

**Louis.**

"Didn't you stay for the credits?" Zayn demanded, practically punching a couple of Iron Man fans out of the way to get to Louis and Liam.

Louis stole a fizzy cola bottle from the Pick and Mix, and stuffed it into his mouth. "Nope. Should I have done?" He didn't look at Liam, who was probably being disapproving about Louis stealing a single sweet. 

Liam ruined everything. _Everything_. Liam was fucking with his head. He was doing weird, terrible things to Louis' brain, things that Louis just couldn't, couldn't be responsible for, and it was all Liam's fault. Liam, with his big hands, and his shoulders, and his _mouth_. Fuck, his mouth. Louis kind of wanted to hit something, or scream and shout. Anything, so long as he could just rewind this evening back to the start and not go outside with Liam. Not give in to this stupid passing phase of wanting to kiss him. It couldn't be that hard.

He stole another sweet—a liquorice all sort this time, which wouldn't have been his first choice, but it was closest, and he was only doing it to piss Liam off anyway—and chewed it obnoxiously, mouth open. 

God, he wished he could be less of a dick. Liam looked like he was about two seconds from breaking down. Louis had to turn around so that he couldn't see. If he knew for certain that he'd made Liam cry, he didn't know what he'd do. He didn't know what the fuck he was doing anyway, but if Liam cried, he'd really, really not know what the fuck he was supposed to do.

Louis' hands were shaking. He shoved them into his pockets so that no one saw. 

He couldn't think about what they'd just done. He'd fucked everything up.

" _Yes_ ," Zayn went on. "Oh my god, that was amazing. That was the best one yet. I fucking loved that. I fucking _loved_ that."

"Your enthusiasm is cute," Perrie said. 

"So _great_." Zayn said again. "Oh my god. Tell me you didn't love it too."

"Of course I loved it," Perrie rolled her eyes. "Iron Man's amazing."

Zayn made an odd, choked kind of a noise and blushed. 

"You're such a weirdo," Louis said. He had to push past Liam so he could elbow Zayn in the side. He wasn't gay, he wasn't. He _wasn't_. He could definitely still look at Perrie and think, _I totally would_. He didn't look at, like, Zac Efron and think, _I wish I could._ Liam was just Liam, and it wasn't like Louis didn't look at him and think, _you're hot_. Everyone looked at Liam and thought that, because it was objectively true, and if you didn't think that then there was something actually wrong with you, but it didn't make Louis _gay_. It made him _not blind_. 

"I still prefer Captain America," Harry said, even though no one was listening. Louis definitely wasn't. He just kept looking at Liam out of the corner of his eye, at how pale he looked, and how tired all of a sudden, and how his mouth looked different from normal because he'd spent so long kissing Louis round the back of the cinema. 

Louis swallowed, plastered a smile on his face, and wrapped an arm around Jesy's shoulders. He hoped he didn't smell too much like come and Liam's dick. Jesy rolled her eyes at him, and pushed him away. 

He'd just had sex with Liam. _Oh god_.

Zayn recovered from his momentary in-love lapse long enough to punch Harry in the arm. "You're so wrong. Didn't you love that? Like, fucking love that?" He was seriously about two seconds away from bouncing up and down. If Louis didn't feel like he was on a totally different planet to the rest of them, he'd find it funny. "You're both dicks for leaving before the credits finished. Fucking Marvel."

"Yeah, yeah," Louis said. Fake it 'til you make it, that was his motto. He could do that. He _could_. He grinned as wide as he could, even though it made his face hurt, and he didn't let it falter as he saw Liam turn away, pale and shaken. 

He knew, objectively, that there was still a chance to save this, to take Liam to one side and tell him that everything was going to be okay. Except he couldn't, because it _wouldn't_. Because Louis had fucked up, and he kept fucking up, and he wanted to stop but he couldn't. He shouldn't have kissed Liam tonight. He shouldn't have gone outside with him, and he shouldn't have given in and had sex with him. He shouldn't have, but kissing Liam was easy, and he liked it, and liking it didn't make him not straight. It didn't make him anything other than horny. 

Except Liam had got hurt, and Liam kept getting hurt, and Louis wasn't stupid. Louis could read Liam like a fucking book, and Louis had fucked up. Liam was his best friend, and he'd made him look like that. He blinked a bit, and concentrated on the film posters on the wall behind the Pick and Mix. 

"Who wants a drink?" Niall said. "Pub?"

"I'm going into town," Harry said. He threw an arm around Liam's shoulders. "Maybe Purgatory. Anyone up for it?"

"Pub," Niall said decisively. "You're on your own, mate. Oh, shit, is that Cher Lloyd over there? Was she in there with us? Did she see me?"

Cher Lloyd had been Niall's number one crush since year nine, when she'd moved house and turned up in their tutor group one Wednesday morning. Niall had promptly forgotten how to walk, tripped over her school bag, and banged his head on the corner of the table in front. Niall had never really figured out how to come back from that, and right up until she'd left after GCSEs, he'd been stuck admiring her from afar. She was over by the queue for popcorn, checking her phone. 

"She's done her hair all different," Niall said. "She looks great. Should I go over? Do you think she'll remember me? Should I ask her if she wants to come with us?"

"Niall, you followed her round for three years. I think she probably knows who you are." Louis forced himself to roll his eyes, and didn't let himself look at Liam. It was okay to find him attractive. Everyone found him attractive. It was Louis' fault for taking it one step too far and kissing him. "Are we going to the pub or what?" He was going to get fucking wasted. He was going to get so drunk he couldn't even remember his own name, and then he was going to forget tonight ever, ever existed. 

Liam swallowed. "I'm going to go for the bus. Not feeling brilliant, you know."

"Kidney?" Harry asked.

Louis fixed his attention firmly on Cher Lloyd. She'd always been really, really pretty. She was hot. He still found Cher Lloyd hot, which just went to show that he definitely wasn't gay. 

One mistake didn't make him gay.

"Yeah." Liam said. "I'll see you all on Monday."

Perrie and Jesy gave him a hug as he got ready to leave, and Harry bumped elbows with him. "Feel better, Payne-o."

"You sure you won't stay?" Jesy said. "Like, have a Coke, or something. Me and Perrie will look after you."

"Thanks," Liam said. "But I feel rotten. I just sort of want to go home."

Jesy leaned over to hug him again. "Text me later," she said. "So we know you got home safe and everything."

"You're not his mum, Jess," Louis said, irritated. He was so angry, all of a sudden. He wanted to kick things, and throw things, and have his brain back, the one that he recognised. The one that he could understand; the one that wasn't filled with Liam, confusing everything.

"Shut up, Louis." She turned her attention back to Liam. "You don't need one of us to go to the bus stop with you, do you?"

"No, I'm fine." Liam shook his head, and glanced at Louis. "So, um. I'll see you all later."

Louis looked down at the floor, toeing the carpet with his Toms. 

When he looked up, Liam was halfway down the escalator, and he wasn't looking back. 

Louis' hands were still shaking. He couldn't make it stop.

\--//--

"So, Cher—" Louis slid into the seat next to her, ignoring Niall's silent but somehow incredibly loud _fuck the fuck off_ , "have you missed us all?"

She smiled, and raised an eyebrow. "Of course."

Like hell she had. Cher was brilliant and funny and hot as hell, and she'd been gone the whole of year twelve, and probably couldn't remember any of their names. "Which of us did you miss the most?" Louis asked, moving a little closer. 

"Go to the bar, Lou," Niall said. 

"Yeah," Zayn said. "Go to the bar, Lou."

Louis forced a grin. "You want anything, Cher?"

"Malibu and Coke, please."

There were two guys at the bar, hands in each other's back pockets. Louis tried not to look, he really did, but how was it that they just _knew_? Louis' head was such a fucking mess, for real. Everything was so tangled up and weird and _wrong_. He _felt_ straight. He was straight. He just couldn't explain why he was thinking about Liam all the time.

The two guys caught him staring, and he tried to smile at them, but it probably came off weird. They moved away from him, looking over their shoulders at him and frowning. 

"I'll have a shot, please," Louis said, when the barman came over to him. He also didn't understand how they could be together like that and not mind people staring at them. "Whatever's cheapest. And a Malibu and Coke, a rum and Coke, and two pints of Carling, please." The others could get their own drinks. He'd forgotten what he was supposed to order, anyway. 

All he could think about was Liam's face as he came, the way his kisses tasted, and the way it had felt to be held up against the wall by him as they'd kissed. 

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He wasn't supposed to be this scared, about everything. He wasn't supposed to want it so much. 

He wasn't supposed to want it at all.

\--//--

"You can't sleep here, mate."

Louis shrugged the hand away. "G'way," he said. "Tired."

"You still can't sleep here, mate. These are the toilets."

Louis shook his head, and refused to open his eyes. "No, go away."

"Don't worry, he's ours." That was Niall. "Come on, Lou. Get the fuck up."

"No," Louis said again. He was really, really tired, and really, really fucked. His bed was really uncomfortable, too.

"For fuck's sake." Zayn. "Get _up_."

"I'm up, I'm up." He was, kind of. The wall was helping. That, and Zayn and Niall holding him up. "Liam's not talking to me."

"Yes he is," Zayn said patiently. "Liam's not even here."

"'S'not." Louis shook his head. "He's not."

"Liam went home ages ago," Niall told him. 

Louis knew that. 

"We're closing, guys. You have to get him out of here. We're shutting up."

"We're going," Zayn said. He cupped Louis' elbow. "Come on, Tommo. Time to go."

Louis had about six legs. He hadn't always had six, he was fairly sure of that. He closed one eye and tried to focus on his shoes. It didn't help that Niall was dragging him out of the loos and through the emptying bar.

"Where's Cher?" Louis remembered Cher. So pretty. 

"She went home—with my number." Niall fist pumped, and almost dropped Louis. "She totally remembered my name."

"Good," Louis said, and turned to Zayn. "Did you snog Perrie?"

"Nope," Zayn said. "And Perrie's right here."

"Yep," Perrie said. "How did you get so drunk?"

"Skill," Louis said, and contemplated throwing up. "Pezza, Liam's not here."

"I know," she said, taking over from Zayn and dragging Louis outside and in the direction of the taxi rank. "I'll tell you a secret," she said, leaning in. "You're a twat."

"Am not," Louis said. He narrowed his eyes. "Act—ack— _actually_ , you're probably right."

"I am," she said. "Don't throw up in the taxi."

"I won't." Louis shook his head.

"Is he going to throw up in my cab?" the taxi driver asked, as they all piled in. Louis curled up with his head in Perrie's lap. 

"I promise not to, Mr Taxi Driver," he said. "Don't kill me, Zayn, but your girlfriend's like a pillow."

"Not my girlfriend," Zayn said tightly. 

"Twat," Perrie said again, but she stroked his hair. 

Louis closed his eyes, and concentrated on not throwing up. He just had to stop wanting it, that was all. Easy.

\--//--

In the morning, he was woken up by a text from Liam.

_U want to come over hereeeeeeee n do homework? So boreddddddddd Sundays r rubbish_

Louis pulled the pillow over his head and tried to ignore the rolling nausea in his belly.

\--//--

When he woke up again, there were two more texts from Liam on his phone.

_Did u have a gud time at the pub last nigt? Did niall pull sher?_

_Ru ignoring me? We don't have 2 talk about what happened we can 4get itttt_

Last night. _Last night_. God, Louis had had sex with Liam round the back of the cinema. This had to stop. He had to find a girlfriend, or something. That was all it was. Liam was hot, and Louis was starved of sexual attention, and he had a knob that begged people to pay attention to it. That was all. The way he felt about Liam was just how anyone felt about their best friend. It was his mistake for letting alcohol blur the lines from friendship into something more. 

The fact that he'd had sex with a boy didn't make him gay, it just made him a straight guy who'd had sex with a guy once. It didn't have to mean anything. He could legitimately just draw a line under this in his head and move on. Things with Liam would go back to normal eventually; they had to. They'd been friends so long, after all. Being friends with Liam was the most important thing in his life, and he knew he was fucking that up, he knew it, but Liam wasn't any more gay than Louis was. They were just two guys, with _needs_ , and last night they'd dealt with them, that was all. He could have been kissing anyone; he could have been kissing any girl. It didn't mean anything that it was Liam. They could fix this, they could. They just needed to pretend it never happened, and never bring it up again, then everything could go back to normal. 

Louis didn't text back.

\--//--

That night, Louis waited until his sisters had gone to bed before going into his bedroom and closing the door. He shoved down his pyjama bottoms, like he'd wanted to do for the whole of the afternoon, and he wrapped his hand around his dick. He thought about Liam, and Liam kissing him, and Liam making him come, and then, all of a sudden, Louis was coming too. He hadn't even made it to the bed.

He leaned his forehead against the wall and closed his eyes. 

He pulled up his pyjama bottoms again, turned the light off, climbed into bed, and pulled the duvet up and over his head.

\--//--

Half an hour later, he shoved his hand down his pyjamas and did it again.

What the fuck was wrong with him? He was _straight_. He didn't like boys; he liked girls. But there were all these feelings running through his head, and he didn't understand them, or know what they meant. Did he like girls? He'd always fancied girls. Louis was a ladies' man. Everyone said that. _He_ said that. He had pictures of girls on his wall, and when he had a wank he thought about girls—apart from today, but today was an anomaly, just like the times he'd kissed Liam—but why couldn't he stop thinking about how good it felt to be near him?

He liked girls. He was straight. Wasn't he? His head was in such a mess. 

He just wished he knew, once and for all.

\--//--

Niall's copy of FHM was already battered and folded by the time break time came around.

"Georgia Salpa, really?" Niall said, flicking to the front of the top 100 FHM babes. 

"I'd do her," Louis said, because he knew Liam was listening, and it was important that every single person in the room knew that he still liked girls, including himself. "But I don't know how she got top ten. Cheryl Cole, though."

"Rihanna," Niall said. "She's totally fucking hot."

Louis swallowed, and sneaked a glance across the table at Liam, who was staring down at his homework and not joining in. 

"I'm just saying, Mila Kunis." Niall turned the magazine around. "Hey, Zayn. Mila Kunis? Would you?"

Zayn glanced at Perrie, who was ostensibly doing her English homework. "I don't believe that women should be objectified," he said. 

Perrie raised an eyebrow, but—probably deliberately—didn't look up. 

"Totally whipped," Niall said. "And this isn't objectifying, this is appreciation. Beautiful appreciation."

Jesy kicked him. "If Cher Lloyd walked in now and found you perving over FHM, what would you do?"

"Pretend it was Louis'," Niall said immediately. "Although Cher's totally cool, she wouldn't mind."

"Hmm," Leigh-Anne said. "She's never going to go out with you."

"She might," Niall countered. "She's got my number. And she texted me yesterday, so there."

Louis watched Zayn go over and sit down next to Liam on the bench opposite.

"Shop?" Zayn asked. 

"Got no money," Liam said, without looking up from his phone. Liam never had any money. In that, he and Louis were like twins. Broke twins. 

"Come with me, then," Zayn persisted. "I want a packet of crisps."

"Fine," Liam closed his textbook and left it on the table, kicking his rucksack under the bench. He grabbed his jacket from the pile of coats on the floor by their chairs, and followed Zayn out of the common room. 

Technically they were supposed to sign out if they left school buildings, but nobody ever did. When Liam looked back over his shoulder, Louis dropped his gaze down to his phone, and tried not to blush. 

He hadn't been looking. Not really. Not much. 

He didn't fancy Liam. He couldn't. He was straight. 

He was.

He _was_.

**SIX.**

**Liam.**

Liam and Zayn didn't really talk until they were out the main entrance and into the square. The supermarket was over the other side of the road from school, and they skirted the square and jumped over the fence to cut the corner off, just like always.

"You okay?" Liam asked as they hopped over the fence at the other side, by the pelican crossing, since Zayn seemed preoccupied. 

"Yeah," Zayn said. He stuck his hands in his pockets as they waited for the lights to change, and the man to turn green. "So, um. I don't really know how to say this."

Liam tried not to freeze up.

"Um," Zayn went on as they started to cross the road. "So, um. Thursday night. At Formation."

The night Liam and Louis had got off together on the balcony. The _smoking balcony_. Liam suddenly knew exactly what was coming. 

"I didn't mean to see, but I just went for a cig—and there you were. You and Louis. Um. Pulling."

"Yeah," Liam said, since he didn't really know what else to say. 

"Are you two—I don't know."

Liam shrugged. "No," he said. It hurt to say no, especially after they'd wanked each other off outside the cinema, and Liam had to remember that his first time was with someone who seemed to want nothing to do with him anymore. Liam didn't understand what the hell was going on in Louis' head, but then, he wasn't sure that Louis did either. Maybe that was the problem.

He was embarrassed at the idea of Zayn seeing him and Louis together, and knowing about Liam's poor life choices. 

"Oh." They wandered across the zebra crossing in the car park, and then into the shop. They'd all spent so long in here over the years that they just wandered in the same direction as always, without really looking at anything. "I didn't know you were, um."

"It's just me," Liam said, and tried not to think about Saturday night. "I don't think it's Louis. I think he was just drunk."

Zayn nodded, and stopped to look at the bread for no apparent reason. 

This wasn't awkward at all. 

"But what about Danielle?"

"I didn't know then. It's only been recently." Liam found himself staring down at the bread on the bakery shelves too. "Don't tell anyone. About Louis, I mean. It was a mistake. I don't think he'd want anyone to know. Don't say anything to him about it. He was really drunk. He didn't mean it. It was just a—it was a thing." A thing where Louis stopped talking to him and Liam lost his best friend. That kind of a thing. If he had a magic lamp right now, he'd go back two weeks and let someone else hold Louis up on their way out of the club, and have none of this happen. He'd have figured out that he was gay at some point, surely? He wouldn't need Louis to help him with that. It just might have taken a bit longer, that was all. He'd pick that option over this one, for definite. 

"All right." They wandered aimlessly away from the bread, and towards the crisps. Zayn picked out a packet of prawn cocktail Skips. "You want some?"

"Haven't got any money."

"I'll get them," Zayn said. "Do you want Skips? Or something else."

Liam was a bit too dazed to make crisp choices. "Skips are fine."

"Cool. Did you watch the telly last night?"

"A bit," Liam said. Somebody else knew he kissed boys. He should probably talk to Danielle so that she didn't find out from someone else. 

If he let himself think about Louis, he was done for. He concentrated on the crisps instead. 

"It's all right, you know," Zayn said eventually, after he'd paid for their crisps and they were walking back to school. 

"Okay," Liam said, even though it didn't feel all right. He felt suspiciously close to tears. 

Zayn bumped his elbow into Liam's, and Liam swallowed down his sadness at Louis ignoring him, and concentrated on pretending everything was all right. If he could just pretend for long enough, maybe even _he'd_ start believing it was true.

When they got back to the common room, everyone was outside playing football on the top playground, but Liam pretended he had too much homework to do. He waved his textbook in the general direction of the last few remaining year twelves in the common room, and stayed exactly where he was. Zayn dropped a hand to Liam's shoulder, and squeezed. 

"I won't tell anyone," he said, quiet enough that no one would overhear. 

Liam nodded, eyes fixed on his textbook, and waved his crisp packet in the air. "Thanks," he said, after a moment. "For the crisps. And for, you know."

"No problem," Zayn said, and patted him awkwardly on the back. "I'll see you."

**SEVEN.**

  
**Liam**.

"You want to come to mine for lunch?" Harry asked Liam at the beginning of lunchtime on Tuesday.

Liam stopped fucking around with his business studies coursework. Technically the year twelves only had to be in school for one registration period a day, but it was usually more fun staying at school than it was going home to be by himself, so Liam tended to hang around until last period on Tuesdays, even though he didn't have lessons. But Louis was still half not talking to him, and making a huge deal of talking to everyone else around him so that no one noticed they weren't really talking, so there was no point in staying at school. If Liam had to listen to Louis talk about fit girls for one more second, he was going to explode. Or cry. One or the other. "Okay."

"Cool," Harry said. "You ready now?"

Liam stuffed his stuff into his bag. He could feel Louis watching him from across the table. "Yeah," he said, very deliberately not looking at Louis. He hadn't said anything other than, _want a crisp?_ and _pass me that bag, will you?_ to Liam since Saturday. He was being really subtle about not talking to Liam, and Liam wasn't sure that anyone else had really noticed yet, but it was still happening. It still made him feel about two inches tall. He'd made some crap decisions in his life, but not staying in the cinema and watching Iron Man 3 was up there with the worst of them. Still, being a total virgin instead of just a little bit of one would be better than Louis ignoring him. 

They walked out of school, across the car park, down the path past the local tennis courts, and towards Harry's house. Liam talked about watching Neighbours and Home and Away. 

Harry was uncharacteristically quiet. 

"You all right?" Liam asked after a while. 

"Yeah," Harry said, and it was so clearly and obviously a lie that Liam almost didn't know how to ask him what was wrong. "Do you want to play Wii when you get to mine? Woolly cow racing?" Harry had a stack of games piled up by his Wii that went up past his knee, but the only game he ever seemed to like playing was this stupid little one where you raced woolly cows around a track. Every time he forgot that Harry wasn't as cool as he pretended to be, something like the woolly cow racing would pop up to remind him. 

"Are we pretending that you're not lying?" Liam asked. "Just so I know."

Harry laughed at that. It didn't sound entirely easy. "I don't know? I don't really know who to talk to about any of this. It doesn't have to be you. Like, if you don't want it to be."

Liam shrugged. "It can always be me, just so you know." He meant it. He liked being able to help his friends, and he'd rather try and listen than not. And anything was better right now than thinking about how his best friend wasn't talking to him. And probably wouldn't ever again, judging by the past two days. His mum kept asking if Louis wanted to come over for his tea. He didn't know how to tell her that Louis wasn't talking to him. She always got such a sad look on her face when she found out things like that. He'd always hated that look. 

Harry didn't say anything, and they crossed the road at the end of the path, and went down the road to Harry's house. He lived closer to school than any of the rest of them. Liam followed him down the drive, and waited whilst Harry fumbled with his keys to let them both in. 

"You know my friend Nick," Harry said, dropping his bag on the floor in the hall and dumping his jacket over the bannister. He kicked off his shoes. 

"Yes," Liam took off his shoes and dropped his bag and his jacket, just like Harry had, and followed him into the kitchen. 

"Promise you won't be weird," Harry opened the fridge and got out stuff to make sandwiches. He motioned Liam towards the table. 

"Cross my heart, and hope to die."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ham, or cheese?"

"Both. If that's okay. Is there enough?" Liam was starving. He'd forgotten his lunch money, and all he'd had in his locker for emergencies was a tomato cup-a-soup. He hated tomato soup, god knows what it was doing there in the first place. It was probably Louis', and fuck, could he just stop thinking about Louis for _five seconds_? He just needed a break from his brain, how hard could it be?

"There's loads. All right, so. Um. I'm trying to get Nick to go out with me, and he won't."

Liam pulled out a stool from the end of the breakfast bar. He sat down and rested his elbows on the table. "Why not?" 

Harry looked at him, as if he was waiting for Liam to say something else. 

Liam didn't know what Harry expected him to say, so he didn't say anything. He'd half expected that Harry and Nick were secretly together, anyway. He'd seen how special he obviously was to Harry. It was probably obvious from space, the way Harry talked about him. Harry hid some things, but he wasn't clever enough to hide it all. 

"He says I'm too young for him," Harry said finally. He turned away from Liam, and buttered the bread for their sandwiches. "He thinks the age gap's too big."

"Is it? How old is he?"

"He's finished uni," Harry said. "Well. He didn't finish uni, he didn't do his finals, but he should have finished."

"Oh." Liam picked at the skin by his fingernail. "That's not that old." It was what, twenty-two? And Harry was seventeen? The age gap between Liam's parents was bigger than that. 

"I know, right? I keep telling him." Harry slapped some cheese and ham on both of the sandwiches, and cut them in half, bunging them onto two plates. He slid one across the counter to Liam, and went to the fridge, coming back with two cans of R. Whites and a jar of Hellman's. "I really like him, and I think he really likes me back, and this is stupid. It's so stupid. And you haven't said anything about the fact that Nick's a bloke."

"Doesn't matter, does it?" Liam didn't want mayonnaise, but he opened it anyway, just for something to do. He offered the knife to Harry, who shook his head.

"Suppose not." Harry pushed his sandwich round his plate. "But, like—it might matter to some people."

"Not to me." Liam shrugged. "Is this why you haven't introduced him to us? Because you fancy him?"

"No. Not really. He's always busy. And I think I might be in love with him. Is that weird?"

"You got a picture?" It must be nice to be able to say out loud that you might be in love with someone. Liam wanted to say that about Louis, but he couldn't, because Louis was Harry's friend too, and because Louis didn't want anyone to know. That much was clear. 

Harry got his phone out of his pocket. "Want to see his Facebook?"

"Yes," Liam said immediately, because he did. "Does he have pictures?"

"Of course. What else is the point of Facebook?"

"There's no other point to Facebook," Liam agreed. He gulped down half of his sandwich as Harry loaded up his Facebook app and scrolled through to Nick's page. He waited until Harry held the phone out, and then angled it so he could take a closer look. "Is this him?"

"Yep."

Nick was tall and dark haired and prone to making stupid faces for the camera. He was also very clearly older than them, and a hipster, and kind of hot. Liam scrolled through the pictures slowly. He'd only ever seen him once across a crowded club, the night Louis had kissed him for the first time. 

Liam put the phone down on the table. 

"So?" Harry said. 

"I'm gay," Liam said. He stared down at his plate. He hadn't really meant to say that. 

"Um. Really?"

"Yep. Sorry. I didn't mean to just, I don't know, blurt it out like that."

Harry put his phone down on the table. "What about Danielle?"

"I didn't know then. It's only been the last few weeks I've figured it all out for certain."

"Oh," Harry said. "I'm bisexual."

"That's good," Liam said, because he thought that you probably had to say something positive when people came out to you. 

Harry frowned. "You don't fancy me, right? Because I'm well and truly taken, even if he doesn't know it yet."

"No." Liam rolled his eyes. "As if. There's someone else, don't worry."

"Who?"

Liam shrugged. "Just somebody. It doesn't matter. He's not really as bothered about me as I am about him. Don't worry about it."

"Did he make you sad?" Harry narrowed his eyes. "Do I need to punch someone?"

"No, don't be stupid. It's fine. I'll get over him, don't worry. It's not a big deal." He took another bite of his sandwich. It tasted a bit like sawdust, if sawdust had mayonnaise on it. "What are you going to do about Nick?"

"If you're sure. I'm going to be watching you, Payne. And I don't know. Get him drunk and see if he'll kiss me, I suppose. He fancies me, I know he does. And he's like—I don't know. You lot are my best friends, but he's like—I can't even explain it. He's like my best friend too, but it's different."

"You haven't known him that long."

Harry laughed. "You know what they say, right? About love at first sight? Me and him were like, best friends at first sight. He makes me laugh. He's brilliant. He's really, really brilliant." 

"Sounds it."

"You ever heard me be like this over anyone else? Because it feels different. Like—I think I love him. It feels like I do. I don't really know what to do with myself. And I know he feels the same back. It's just my stupid age that's the problem. We'll be upper sixth next year, it's all so annoying."

Liam knew what Harry meant when he said he didn't know what to do with himself. He felt like that too, like he was trapped and didn't know a way out. "I kind of—I sort of lost my virginity," he said softly, after a minute. "Sort of. Ish. And ever since, he hasn't spoken to me. I think he's just pretending it never happened."

"Oh, god," Harry said. "Liam."

"Don't, okay." He looked down at his knees. "Do you ever wish that you could just go back and change everything? Cos, like, when he kissed me, it was like the best thing ever, but actually—" he shrugged. "Actually it's all just ended up being a bit crap. And now things are worse than they were when we hadn't done any of this. I'd rather still be a virgin than have it end up like this."

"Liam—"

"Really, seriously. It's nothing. I just need to get over it all and move on." He fiddled with a thread on his jeans. 

"Does anyone else know?" 

"Zayn does. Kind of. He saw me and—this guy together. We didn't really talk about like, um, me. You're the first person I've actually properly told."

Harry bumped his shoulder into Liam's. "He's an idiot. Whoever he is, he's an idiot. Do you want to talk about it?"

Liam shook his head. "Not really," he said. "I just want to wake up and everything to have gone back to the way it was."

"I don't think that's going to happen."

"I know. I just—I haven't got anything to say. I really like him, Haz. I like him so much. I might even love him. It feels a bit like that. But it doesn't matter, because he's ashamed of me, or he doesn't want me, or he wishes it had never happened. I don't even know which it is, but it doesn't actually matter, does it? It's not going to change anything. I don't think he's even gay. He talks about girls a lot."

"You give me a sign," Harry said, "and me and Zayn will go and beat this useless guy up, okay? We will beat him up for upsetting you, and then we'll go into full protective mode. We'll get Niall and Louis too. All of us. Jesy and Perrie and the others too. Jesy's fierce. We won't let him anywhere near you. He's a dick, anyway."

Liam didn't cry at the mention of Louis' name, even though he wanted to. He didn't let on it was him, either. "Can we just play on the computer instead?" 

"Yeah," Harry said, and pushed his plate across the table. He licked his fingers clean. "Yeah, that sounds good." 

When they stood up, Harry wrapped his arms around Liam's waist from behind and rested his cheek against his shoulder. "I wish I fancied you," he said. "And that you fancied me. We'd be great together."

"You wouldn't treat me like shit," Liam said. Fuck.

"No, never." Harry kissed the back of his neck. They'd never done anything like that before. "Thanks for telling me, you know. For like—coming out to me."

"Same," Liam said. He'd thought coming out was supposed to be traumatic. He'd never really thought about the possibility of it not always being like that. He'd never really thought about any of this before. They stumbled into the living room together and Harry only let go of him to go and fiddle with the TV.

Liam sat down on the sofa and rubbed his hands against his thighs. They were all sweaty.

"Hey," Harry said, switching on the TV and throwing a remote at Liam. He didn't catch it before it hit him in the chest. "Just think, we can perv over guys together now."

"Yeah. Sounds good to me." Liam looked down at his lap. "Can you, um. Can you not tell anyone until I've talked to Danielle? I want her to know first. It's only fair, right?"

"Yeah, okay." Harry held up Mario Kart and the woolly cow racing box. "Which one?"

Liam pointed at the cows. Getting through the day was easy. He'd done it two and three quarter times now, each one a day with part of his virginity gone, and without Louis in it. He could keep on doing this. On, and on, and on, and on. 

It had better get easier at some point.

\--//--

"Is Danielle coming out?" Liam asked, as soon as Danielle's mum answered the door that evening. He then did his best attempt at not actually kicking himself for reverting back to being eleven again and asking if Danielle was playing out.

Danielle's mum smiled at him. She'd always liked him, which was nice. "I'll see," she said. "Come in, Liam."

"It's okay." Liam stuffed his hands into his pockets. He didn't want to go inside. "I'll wait here, don't worry."

Danielle took a couple of minutes to come to the door. She was in jeans and a hoodie and Ugg boots. "Hi," she said, a little suspiciously. "Mum says you're being strange."

He wasn't sure he wanted it to be that obvious. "Do you want to go for a walk, or something?"

"I'm not going to go out with you again, Liam."

"I know." For a while after they'd broken up the second time, he'd tried to get her back. They'd been good together, if he didn't think about the whole lack of sexual attraction thing. He hadn't realised it hadn't been there until he'd kissed Louis, which was about as fun a revelation as he could have imagined it being. "I just—I've got something to tell you, that's all." How would finding out your ex-boyfriend was gay go down, anyway? 

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah." Liam shrugged his shoulders. "Are you coming out?"

"I've only got about half an hour. I've got homework."

"All right. I'll wait at the end of the drive."

He sat on the garden wall and stared down at his hands, trying to figure out what it was he wanted to say. He'd always liked Danielle so much, and he'd been sohappy when she'd agreed to go out with him. They'd gone out for a bit of year ten and all of year eleven, with a gap where they broke up at Christmas for a week, and then again, for good, just after Easter. He really had loved her, and figuring out he was gay didn't change any of that. It just explained why he didn't get hard when he thought about her, but he did when he thought about Louis. Or dicks in general. Dicks were great. He was planning on looking at a lot of pictures of them in the future. 

"Where do you want to go?" Danielle asked a minute later. She handed him a little bag of chocolate buttons. "From my mum."

"Your mum's great."

"She is, isn't she?" Danielle smiled. "You all right, Li?"

"Let's walk." They walked down her road and down the ginnel to the road below. If you went to the end, and crossed over, you could climb over the wall and cut across the golf course to the woods. He had no intention of going as far as the woods, but maybe they could sit on the wall and try not to be hit by golf balls. He asked her about her AS levels, and how her dancing was going, and he tried really hard to listen to her answers. Tried, and failed, because how did you tell someone you were gay? Harry and Zayn weren't the experience he needed for this moment. 

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" Danielle asked, once they were sitting on the wall by the lane, feet hanging over the golf course. 

"I'm gay," Liam said.

"Oh," Danielle said, after a minute. She looked down at her knees. "Oh god."

"I'm sorry," Liam said. "I didn't know how to tell you."

"Spoiler: that way was rubbish." 

Oh god, was she crying? She _was_. Liam felt like the worst kind of person. "You're crying."

"That whole time with me, did you know?" she asked. She rummaged in her pocket and came out with a scrap of a tissue. She wiped her eyes. "I'm not crying. I'm _not_."

"I didn't know," Liam said. He felt helpless, and awful. And—gay. He was gay. "I only—it's just been recent. These last few weeks. I started to understand. And now I know."

"But you and me—"

"I really loved you. I never lied to you, not once." Liam wasn't actually a liar. He had a hundred other faults—being too boring, for a start—but he didn't lie. "I was so happy when I was going out with you."

"But then we broke up, and you're suddenly gay?"

"No." He shook his head. "I wanted to tell you before I started to tell other people. I didn't want it to be a surprise."

"This is going to be so embarrassing."

"It's not going to be much fun for me, either."

Danielle relented. "Sorry," she said, and wiped her eyes again. "I mean—oh god. I really am sorry. It's just a bit confusing. When you were with me, did you fancy boys? Did you fancy me?"

"I never fancied boys before—" he stopped. "I didn't have a clue I was gay until about a month ago. Like, not a clue. But then—well, um. Something happened, and I started to understand. And I know I'm gay."

"Not bisexual?"

Liam wished he was, just to make Danielle feel better. He wasn't a liar, though. "No. I'm sorry. I just—I think you're brilliant. And a wonderful girlfriend. None of this was about you."

"You just didn't fancy me."

"I thought I did. I really thought I did."

"Oh." She tried to smile. "I suppose this explains a few things."

"Like what?"

"You didn't exactly try to put your hand up my skirt."

Liam laughed at that. He didn't mean to. "I was being a gentleman."

"You were always a gentleman." Danielle looked away for a minute. She wiped her eyes again. "Is there someone?"

"Sort of. Well. There was someone. I liked someone. He didn't really like me back, though. Or not enough, anyway." He tried to look like he wasn't half way to having his heart broken. "I don't think I'm going to be turning up with a boyfriend at any point soon."

"You should. You deserve someone nice."

"How about you? Anyone on the horizon? You should have a bloody brilliant boyfriend."

Danielle smiled. It only looked a bit watery. "There's a boy at dance. He seems nice."

"I really am sorry, Dani. I didn't mean to hurt you."

She waved his hand away. "Seriously, I'm being an idiot. I can't believe I just cried."

Liam drew his knee up to his chest and rested his chin on his knee. He handed Danielle the buttons, even though she didn't usually eat chocolate. She took the bag and tipped some of them into her hand, before passing it back. "I loved you," he said, after a while. "And the worst part of this is thinking you might be hurt."

She shook her head. "Seriously. We've been broken up months. A year, pretty much. We were kids."

"Nice try." Liam knew she was trying to put a brave face on it. He sort of wanted to do the same thing.

"Are you going to tell people at school?" 

"Yeah. But slowly. I'm not keeping it a secret."

"You always were brave."

"No. This isn't brave." It wasn't. It was just—Liam didn't know. Louis might want to keep what the two of them did a secret, but Liam wasn't ashamed of how he felt about other boys. He never wanted to be that person. If Louis didn't want to be friends with him anymore, then that was his problem, and not Liam's. 

"Who else knows?" 

Liam shrugged. "Harry, really. I told him earlier. Zayn knows a bit, because he saw something, and—" He didn't want to say Louis' name. "There's someone else who knows, but they're not going to tell anyone."

"Someone been messing you around, Liam?"

"A bit. It doesn't matter. It was my fault, should never have got involved." He tried to smile. "You know me. Always making idiotic decisions."

"Doesn't sound like the Liam I know."

"I don't know. Sounds a lot like him to me." Liam tried to keep the despondency out of his voice, but sort-of losing his virginity was still too close for him to be really all right. 

"He's the idiot, and not you." She sounded way too sure of that, and Liam didn't want to tell her she was wrong. He shuffled closer to her, along the top of the wall, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. 

"You were brilliant," he said softly, and Danielle nodded into his shoulder. 

"I know," she said, and Liam closed his eyes for a moment, and held on.

\--//--

"Lou—" Liam said, on Wednesday before registration.

Louis glanced at Liam, and went back to stuffing his things into his locker. "What do you want?"

"Just, I don't know. You're not talking to me."

"I am. I'm talking to you now."

Liam shook his head. "But not properly, not since Saturday—"

Louis shot him a panicked look. "Shut up, nothing happened on Saturday."

Liam looked down at his feet. "Oh," he said. "All right."

"Hey," Jesy said, running over to them. She bumped her shoulder into Louis', and tucked her hand into the curve of Liam's elbow. "Karaoke tomorrow night? At The Brewers? We're all up for it."

"Try and stop me, gorgeous," Louis said. 

Jesy rolled her eyes. "I'm never getting with you, so stop that. Either of you, actually. I'm not getting with anyone who's still at school." She turned to Liam. "You up for karaoke?"

"Don't know," Liam said. He shrugged. "Might have homework."

"You should come," Louis said. "Everyone will be there."

Liam was done trying to figure out what the hell was going on in Louis' head. He got the picture, though. Saturday hadn't happened. Louis didn't want him. 

"Come on," Jesy wheedled. "Come to mine first, we can do our business studies together. We can break for Neighbours."

Liam appreciated people who'd watch Neighbours with him. Louis always talked through it and tried to change the channel.

"All right," he said, concentrating on Jesy, and not on anything—or anyone—else. "Fine, I'm in."

"Excellent," Jesy crowed. "Get in."

Liam could feel Louis looking at him, but when he looked up, Louis looked the other way.

**EIGHT.**

**Liam.**

He and Jesy got to The Brewers early enough on Thursday that they could get the biggest table in the place, sprawling across all of the benches to put off anyone else who wanted to sit in the vicinity. The karaoke guy hadn't even finished setting up, but when Louis arrived with the others, he stole a couple of the songbooks on the way to the bar, bringing them back for everyone to flick through and shortlist from.

Karaoke was serious business. 

Liam waited until Louis was back with his drink before going to the bar himself. Nothing had changed since yesterday; Louis still wasn't really talking to him. Liam kept catching him sneaking glances, but whenever they were near each other, Louis would talk to someone else, and not to him. He said just enough that no one else realised what was going on. Liam did things like pass Louis his jumper and tell him that the trip to Alton Towers was in year nine and not year ten when he asked. He told him that Harry was in the loo when Louis wondered where everyone was, and that Niall was outside playing footy, and that Louis was supposed to go and join him on the top playground. It was just enough that no one noticed that that was all they were saying to each other. 

"You all right?" Harry asked, following him to the bar. Liam hadn't even seen him come in.

"Yeah, fine," Liam lied. "What are you doing here? Thought you had plans with Nick tonight?"

"He might come here," Harry said. "He's meeting me later, when he's finished."

Liam didn't ask, _finished what?_ "How's the whole getting him to go out with you plan going?"

Harry grimaced. "If I tell you this, you can't tell anyone."

"Swear it," Liam said. The bar was pretty empty, apart from a guy with a shaved head and a rugby shirt at the other end, chatting up the barmaid. There was no one around to overhear them, although Liam wasn't really sure that either of them were exactly keeping their sexualities a closely guarded secret anymore. Their respective non-boyfriends, yes, but the rest of it—no. They weren't exactly waving it from the rooftops, but they weren't keeping it secret either. They'd talked about coming out at school by both producing identical copies of _Attitude_ from their school bags and reading them without saying anything. As plans went, it was pretty sound.

"I kissed him," Harry said. "Tuesday night, after I'd seen you. I just went over, and knocked on his door, and when he answered it, I kissed him."

"Oh god. And?"

"He kissed me back. For approximately five seconds, then he pushed me away and said I was too young." He shrugged a little ruefully. "But he likes me, at least. Just got to, you know, get him to realise that going out with me is an excellent idea."

"Excellent life plan," Liam agreed. He ordered a pint of Coke. His mum would go mad if he came home drunk two Thursdays in a row.

"How about your boy? He stopped being an idiot?"

"Nope," Liam said, handing over two pound coins when the barman came back with his drink. He waited for his change. "Let's not talk about him."

"You sure? I'm actually like, you know, here if you need to."

"It's fine," Liam lied. It wasn't fair to put any of their friends in the middle. He and Louis had been friends for years, but apparently all it took for Louis to show his true colours were a few drunken snogs and a sort-of-maybe half-shag behind a cinema. It was crap, really. Liam should be mad about it, but the only feeling he could manage was a sort of abject sadness that crept across his skin when he least expected it, and settled in the pit of his stomach like a huge weight that wouldn't go away. "I'll get over it, honestly. No big deal."

Harry didn't look like he believed him, but whatever. Liam leaned on the bar and waited for Harry's drink to arrive. 

"Got any idea what you want to sing tonight?" 

"I'm thinking a classic," Harry said. "Like, Natalie Imbruglia. Or, something like One Way or Another."

"Nice," Liam said, making an approving face. "I'm thinking a bit of Sinatra. What do you think?"

"Do it," Harry said. He handed over his money and elbowed Liam in the side. Liam narrowly avoided spilling his Coke everywhere. "You really all right?"

"Totally. Promise." It was a lie, and Liam knew that Harry knew it was a lie, but he didn't push it. That was the kind of friend Liam needed right now. 

When they got back to the table, he didn't look over at Louis, and Louis' row of drinks. He settled in next to Perrie and Jesy, and listened to them both getting very enthusiastic about the new Star Trek film that was coming out. 

It was easier this way, that was all. 

The night ended up drunken and loud, just like every other karaoke night they destroyed at the Brewers. Liam wowed everyone with his rendition of I Get a Kick Out Of You, and deliberately didn't look at Louis once. Harry sang One Way Or Another, which Liam suspected was secretly for Nick, who wasn't even there. Perrie, Jesy, Leigh-Anne and Jade did a fucking great version of Missy Elliot's Work It. Louis got Niall and Zayn up to do a very loud, carnage-filled version of Livin' on a Prayer. 

Harry leaned over and said, "Do you think we should do It's Raining Men? Just you and me?"

Liam snorted. "Next time. Let's make it our coming out song."

Harry held his hand up for a high five. Their coming out plans were the best plans. 

The drinks kept on coming, the table filling up with empties as Louis took it upon himself to get everyone totally fucking smashed. He badgered the barman to do them a deal, tenth pint free when they bought nine, so everyone clubbed together for another round. Niall took a million and ten pictures and uploaded them to his Facebook; Liam tried to hide behind Harry. He wasn't really in the mood for smiling. 

After a while, Danielle came to sit on his knee. "You okay?" She didn't drink that much either. It was always nice to have someone else around who could at least remember what it was like to be sober. 

"Getting there," he lied. He slid his arms around her waist, and she kissed the top of his head. 

When he looked up, Louis was watching them both, and frowning. 

Liam looked the other way. Louis had barely spoken to him since Saturday night. He could put his stupid fucking glances away, and let Liam get over him in peace. He tightened his hold on Danielle's waist. "You having a good night?"

"Yeah," she said. "Me and Eleanor are going to take our bikes out on Sunday, go over to the Lanethorpe Estate and go up the hill. Do you want to come?"

Liam nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Sounds great."

"Brilliant. I'm dancing in the afternoon, so first thing?"

"Yep," Liam said. His bike was well old, and mostly falling apart. It got him from A to B, as long as he didn't try and get there all that often. "Are we taking sandwiches?"

"Why not," she said. "We could take a flask, too. Have tea at the top."

"Perfect." This was why Danielle was totally fucking ace. Part of him wished he had some desire at all to see her naked. 

"I've got a game," Louis said, over the top of them all. "Drinking game. Who's in?"

"All of us, obviously," Niall said. He downed the rest of his pint. "Right?"

"Right," Zayn agreed. Perrie was sitting by his side, knee touching his. She was talking to other people, but Liam could see the way they were aware of each other, even though they pretended they weren't. He liked it when people got together, and not just because Perrie and Zayn's mating rituals were going on forever. 

"Loser has to drink a shot," Louis said. He stole a glance at Liam, which Liam pretended he couldn't see. "Or play a forfeit."

"Who picks the forfeit?" Harry asked. 

"Me," Louis said, sunnily. "I'll write them out whilst you lot do the questions. Let's play _Spin the Harry_. Round six, or whatever we're up to."

"Oh my god," Harry said. They usually saved _Spin the Harry_ for wasted house parties when they'd run out of booze. It usually ended up with Harry falling off the settee and ending up bruised. "What, even."

"Niall," Louis said. "Niall, you're going to be our spinner. Everyone off the bench, we're commandeering it for the game."

"You're drunk," Liam said. Danielle climbed off his lap, though, and held her hand out for Liam to take as he stood up. 

"I am," Louis agreed. "And for pointing it out, you can be contestant number one. Zayn, you can be two. The rest of you get to play next time. Harry, get over here."

Harry snorted, but obediently went to stand by Louis. 

Louis handed out the karaoke request sheets and made everyone turn them over. "Write down a question, everyone, then fold them up."

Liam thought, _I don't want to play_. The last time they'd played _Spin the Harry_ , it had ended up with Louis smearing banana across his face, and Harry knocking over a whole shelving unit in Zayn's living room. They weren't allowed to drink at Zayn's anymore. 

Anyway, Liam wouldn't have wanted to play even if everything wasn't confusing and upside down and mixed up. Even if he hadn't kind of sort of lost his virginity to Louis less than a week ago. 

Around him, everyone wrote their questions down, and folded them up. Louis was busy writing forfeits, and shoving them in his back pocket. Niall collected the questions, and shuffled them up. Then he dealt them out on the table in front of the bench. 

"I'm Louis 'the Tommo' Tomlinson," Louis said, climbing on a chair. He ignored the barmaid, who waved him down. "And we're going to play _Spin the Harry_. You ready, Harry?"

Harry flopped down on the bench, and then went rigid. "I'm ready, Louis 'the Tommo' Tomlinson. Are you ready, Niall?"

"I'm ready," Niall said, breaking the mood by snorting his laughter. 

"Well, today's contestants are Zayn 'the hot dog' Malik—"

"What the _fuck_ ," Zayn said. 

"Shut up, Malik." Louis pulled a face. "Zayn 'the hot dog' Malik, and on the other team, Liam 'going to lose because he's a loser' Payne."

"Louis," Liam said. 

"Nobody cares, Payne-o." There were six lads on the stage singing Sexy And We Know It, and Louis broke off to sing _I got passion in my pants and I'm not afraid to show it_ , complete with hip thrust. "Are we ready? Niall, spin the Harry. Where will he land?"

Harry obediently rolled over and over on the bench. He only knocked over two glasses, which Liam had to count as a win. He stopped when Louis yelled _stop_ , and then Niall reached over to pick up the folded up question nearest to where Harry had come to rest. 

"This is a good one," Niall said. "If you could kiss any one of us right now, who would you pick?"

Liam froze. Louis froze. Zayn started to laugh. Liam couldn't look at him.

"Zayn," Louis said, recovering himself. His voice caught, just a little. Just enough that Liam noticed. He stared up at Louis, still standing on his chair, and watched him swallow. "Your answer please."

"That's easy," Zayn said, and he stared right at Perrie, who was already blushing. "Perrie."

"Excellent and unsurprising answer, Zayn." Louis touched his hand to Liam's hair. "Liam, your answer, please."

Liam shook his head. He couldn't do this. "No—"

"Oh, come on," Jade said. "You've got to have an answer."

Liam tried to speak, but he couldn't. He looked at Harry, who looked confused, and over at Danielle, who looked concerned, at least. He looked up at Louis. "Do you want me to answer that?" he said finally. Louis' hand was still in his hair. "Do you?"

"You've got to answer, it's the game," Leigh-Anne said. 

Liam shook his head again. He looked down. "No. I'm not answering that."

Louis's hand was still in his hair. "You lose," he said finally. "Zayn wins."

"Fine," Liam said, pulling away from Louis' hand. He folded his arms. His hands were sweating. 

"Forfeit," Niall said. "Forfeit, forfeit." Around them, everyone joined in, until they were clapping loud enough to drown out the karaoke. This was usually how they ended up getting chucked out. 

Louis pulled out a piece of paper from his back pocket. He unfolded it, and held it up. "Take your top off," he said, reading it out. "The forfeit's taking your top off."

Liam folded his arms. "No."

"Got to, Liam. That's the forfeit. The paper has spoken." Niall made a face, and laughed. 

"Oh my god," Jade said. "You can't make the forfeit taking his top off."

Louis looked down at him, eyes bright. Liam didn't understand what he saw there. "That's what the forfeit is. If he doesn't want to do it here in front of everyone, we can go outside. Round the back of the pub, if he wants."

"You're drunk," Liam said. His chest felt tight, and not in a good way. This was—what the fuck was Louis playing at? Not talking to him all fucking week, wanking him off and giving him the silent treatment, and then _this_. 

"Well, obviously."

The subtext—Liam knew what a subtext was, at least that was one thing he could still remember from GCSE English—made Liam want to cry. He was better than this. He'd thought his friendship with Louis was better than this. 

"Fine, whatever," he said. He avoided Harry's gaze, because Harry was clever, and could figure things out, and Liam really, really didn't want him to. "Whatever, come on. Let's go outside." He wasn't taking his top off. What the shit Louis thought he was playing at, Liam had no bloody idea. He just—he wanted to shout. He wanted to yell. He wanted to do this somewhere everyone they knew wasn't. He'd thought he and Louis were _friends_. 

Friends who wanked each other off, but whatever. Whatever.

Everyone started to whoop and cheer, but Liam ignored them. He was too close to flipping out. He hadn't been angry before, but now he was. It was like a switch had flipped in his head. He'd spent all week being sad and upset and a bit broken, but the anger crashed over him now like a wave. 

Liam stormed out of the pub and into the car park, keeping going until he could be sure he was out of sight of the windows, heading round the back to the recycling bins. Where nobody could see them. He could hear Louis following him. 

He turned around when he got the bins, and shook his head. "What the _hell_ , Louis—"

Louis pushed him back against the wall and kissed him. "Fuck, finally," he said. "I've wanted to get you on your own all night."

Liam pushed him away. Hard. "Oh my god."

"What the fuck?" Louis stumbled over his feet. He stopped himself with a hand to a bin, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What was that?"

"What was _that_?" Liam shook his head. "Jesus, Louis, you're my _best friend_ , and you wanked me off in a back street, and then you didn't talk to me all week, and like, I don't think I'm a virgin anymore, and you fucking ignored me all week like I'm worthless. And then you think you can just kiss me like none of it matters? Are you an idiot? Are you an actual idiot?"

"Liam—"

"Shut _up_ ," Liam said. "Shut up, and stop being awful for just, I don't know, three seconds or something. What the hell are you playing at? What is this?"

"It's not—I'm not—" Louis shook his head. 

"You're not what?" Liam raised an eyebrow. God, he was so angry. "You're not gay? I think I've got that. You're not my friend? I've got that too. You don't want to admit that you've kissed me? I've _really_ got that. So, like—what the shit is all this shit?"

"I don't know. I _don't know_." Louis looked like he was about to cry. "It's not—I didn't—"

"You tried to get me to take my top off, Louis. You called me a loser. Why did you do that?" 

"I don't know," Louis said again. He clenched his fists. "Why won't you just stop? You're always there, in my head, always driving me mad, why won't you just leave me alone?"

Liam shook his head. "If you wanted to kiss me, why didn't you just ask? Why won't you just admit that's what you want, instead of just getting drunk and ignoring me all week like I'm nothing?" He wanted to cry. "I'm not nothing. I'm not nothing, and I really like you, and I don't want to, because it turns out you're a giant cock. But I do, and I'm really, really gay. I'm really gay, Lou, and you're messing with my head, and it's not fair."

"I'm not gay," Louis said, softly. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "I'm _not_."

"Shut up," Liam said. "Stop lying to me, and stop pretending this isn't happening, and stop pretending you're too fucking drunk to remember kissing me. Because you're not, and it happened, and you're such a dick. So just shut up, all right. Shut up, before I start to hate you for real."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not—I'm not anything."

"Liar," Liam said. "You're a liar. You just kissed me."

"It was just a—it was nothing."

Liam kicked the wheely bin. It hurt. Nothing magically fixed itself. "You're a liar," he said again. "And you used to be my best friend."

"Liam—"

"Are you going to say sorry for tonight? And for this week? And admit we've been getting off together?"

Louis swallowed, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. 

Liam waited, and watched, and begged a god he didn't really believe in make Louis say he was sorry. He was his _best friend_. Liam had been friendless before and it had been awful. He didn't want to do that again. He didn't want to be without Louis. He loved him. 

Louis looked down at the ground, and didn't say anything, and Liam could feel his breath catch in the back of his throat. 

"Fine," he said, after another minute. "Be like that."

And then he turned back towards the pub, each step back inside harder than the last, and without stopping to go back inside for his coat or his bag, he walked out of the car park and down the road towards the bus stop. 

He was crying before he even left the car park.

\--//--

Liam got all the way to the bus stop before he realised that he'd left his wallet in his bag in the pub.

"Fuck." He kicked the corner of the bus shelter. It fucking hurt, and it didn't magically make his bus money appear in his pocket, or Louis come running after him to apologise and ask him if he wanted to be his boyfriend. 

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and kicked the bus stop again. He wasn't going back to the pub. He _couldn't_. It was bad enough that he'd walked off without saying anything to everyone else, without having to go back in looking like he'd just been crying. 

He sat down on the bench in the bus shelter and got his phone out of his pocket to text Harry. 

_Can u bring my coat n my bag to the bus stop. Got 2 go home n forgot my stuffff. dont tell ne1 ive gone thankssss_

Harry must have been checking his phone, because he replied straight away. _Ok be there in a min, hope everything is ok xxxxxxx_

Liam sniffled, and blinked, trying not to cry again. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, because he didn't have a tissue, and then he was crying in the bus shelter again, because everything—everything—had gone wrong. 

Everything. 

When the bus showed up, he couldn't get on it because he didn't have any money. The next one wasn't for another half an hour, and Harry wasn't there with his stuff, so he just had to sit there and wave the bus on when it stopped. The bus driver looked confused—and with good reason, because no other buses stopped there, so what on earth was Liam doing in the bus stop if he didn't want to get on an actual bus—but whatever. 

He buried his face in his hands and tried to get a handle on himself. _Don't show anyone you're upset_ , he told himself. _It's not a big deal. Let it go. Pretend it's okay, and it will be. You've still got friends_. 

It didn't work. 

"Oh god," Harry said from the entrance, a few minutes later. "Liam?"

Liam tried to look away, towards the corner where it was dark and Harry wouldn't be able to see that he was crying. It was dark, after all. "It's nothing. I'm fine."

"You're not fine," Harry said. He dumped Liam's stuff on the bench and sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around Liam's shoulder. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Liam lied. His voice caught. "I just want to go home, that's all."

"Liam," Harry said. He tucked his nose in against Liam's neck. "Liam, tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing, I promise. You got a tissue?" His voice only shook a bit.

Harry rummaged in his pocket and came out with a scrap of something that might have been a tissue once. He handed it to Liam. "Only this. Hang on, I'm texting Nick. He was going to come to the pub and meet me. I'll tell him not to go there."

Liam blew his nose on the remains of Harry's tissue and tried not to think about how revolting that was. 

"You were okay before," Harry said, slipping his phone back into his pocket a minute later. "Has something happened at home?"

"No," Liam shook his head. Too late, he realised he should have lied and said _yes_. 

"You were fine before you went outside with Louis—" Harry stopped, stricken, and Liam knew he'd figured it out. "Oh god. You and Louis. It was Louis. Your boy. It's Louis."

"It's not—" Liam trailed off. He tried to shake his head, refute it, but he couldn't find the words. He rubbed his eyes, and looked down at the floor. "Don't tell anyone. Please don't tell anyone. He'd hate it."

"Liam," Harry said softly. 

"Don't. It was stupid, okay? I was stupid. I should never have done anything with him. It's my own fault it turned out like this." His voice caught again. 

Harry wrapped Liam up in a hug. Liam didn't hug back. He couldn't seem to get his hands to move. "I'm sorry," Harry said. "I'm so sorry."

"Life lesson: don't sleep with anyone you don't mind losing as a friend afterwards. Not that we slept together. We just, I don't know. I don't even know if it counts."

"It probably counts," Harry said. He dropped a kiss to Liam's shoulder. 

Liam's bottom lip wobbled and he had to bite it to keep from crying again. "Everything's gone wrong," he said, "and I have no idea how to fix any of it."

"I know," Harry hugged him tighter, and Liam looked away, desperately trying to get control of himself. He still couldn't believe that Louis had tried to kiss him again. 

"Oh," someone said, from the entrance to the bus shelter. "Sorry."

Liam turned his face away, so that no one would see him crying. He hoped Harry would get rid of them. He hoped it wasn't anyone he knew.

"Hi, Nick." Harry said. He didn't let go of Liam. 

Liam wiped his eyes with his fist. It was hard when Harry was keeping such a tight hold on him.

"I can, like, you know—leave you alone. I was already almost here when I got your text."

"This is Liam," Harry said, still not loosening his grip on Liam. It was a death-grip hug. "His boyfriend is being a giant cock."

"He's not my boyfriend," Liam said, trying not to sniffle.

"Ah," Nick said. He leaned against the inside of the bus shelter, one knee up, and Liam risked a glance. He was in jeans and scruffy Converse and a battered leather jacket. He was quite good looking, in as much as he could tell from his current _it's quite dark and I've been crying_ perspective. "I know that one."

"I can't come out," Harry told him. "I'm going to take Liam home."

"You don't need to do that," Liam said. He wasn't a kid. He could get himself home, and to bed, and up again in the morning. He could continue doing it too, every day until it stopped hurting, and he didn't have to see Louis every day. 

"Do too. Sorry, Nick."

"'S'all right," Nick said. "You missed the bus, though. Saw it go past when I came out of my street."

"I know. Next one's in a bit, though."

"Like, half an hour," Nick shrugged. "Do you want a lift home? Mine's just round the corner, and it's easier than waiting here for the next bus. We can talk about how crap boys are, if you want. Or not."

"Aren't you going out?" Harry said. 

"Was going to, but it doesn't matter. Could just as easy go home and watch the telly. You're going home, anyway."

From where Liam was sitting, it sounded a lot like Harry was right, and Nick _did_ like him. Not that Liam was any good at this sort of thing, obviously, or else he wouldn't be sitting in a bus shelter on a Thursday night, crying over a sort-of thing with his best friend. He was hardly up for boyfriend of the year, or anything. 

"What do you think?" Harry asked. "Like, you have to have a warning before you get in Nick's car—"

"It's crap," Nick supplied. "But it mostly goes. It's got about three months before it fails the MOT and I'm carless again."

"—but it probably beats waiting here for ages."

Liam could see the logic in that. Plus, not being here meant he didn't have to worry about them being disturbed by any of their friends. Liam didn't want anyone else to see him upset. It was bad enough that Harry knew. "Suppose," he said. "If it's really all right."

"Course it is," Nick said. "We can share tales of crap boyfriends. I had one once who stole all my socks. Like, all of them. Bet yours didn't do that."

"I don't think he did," Liam said. "I haven't checked, though."

"Check when you get home. You never know."

Liam managed half a laugh, and then Harry was letting go of him and bundling his coat and his bag in his direction. 

"Put those on."

Liam did, zipping up his coat and putting on his school bag. Harry slipped his hand into Liam's, and squeezed. 

Nobody had held his hand since he and Danielle had broken up. He'd never done it with a boy before. 

"Come on," Harry said. "Let's just get you home, all right?"

"I'm not like, poorly or anything."

Harry rolled his eyes, and bumped his elbow into Liam's. He was still holding Liam's hand. "Shut up, and let me and Nick take care of you for a bit, okay?"

"Fine," Liam said. 

Harry smiled at that. His elbow brushed Nick's, and he leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Thanks for offering to drive," he said. 

Liam was fairly sure that Nick blushed.

\--//--

Nick's car was a rust bucket. Somewhere underneath the dirt and the rust it was a sort of faded red, and as only half the doors worked, Liam had to wait until Nick yanked on the handle in just the right way so that he could climb into the back.

"Nice car," Harry said, climbing into the front. He grinned at Nick, smile wide. 

"Cheeky," Nick said. He bumped his elbow into Harry's. "See if I drive you anywhere again. You all right back there? Just shove any shit onto the floor, or whatever."

Liam swept a few McDonald's paper bags onto the floor. "Done," he said. 

"Here." Nick held a box of tissues over his shoulder. "If you need them."

Harry snorted. "You have tissues? Why the fuck do you have tissues in your car?"

"Because I like to look after myself," Nick said. He started the engine. It sounded a bit like a plane taking off. "There are wet wipes in the glove compartment, if you'd rather have them."

"And moisturiser," Harry said, from where he was poking through Nick's glove compartment. "And a scarf. A silk scarf. You have any need for moisturiser or a silk scarf, Liam?"

"I'm probably all right," Liam said. He waved the tissue box in the air. "All sorted, thanks."

"You may mock, young fellow-my-lad," Nick said, "but the next time you need an already moist hand wipe, you'll be sorry."

Harry just smirked. "You're so weird."

"Takes one to know one," Nick pulled out into the road. "Either of you two hungry? I've got a voucher for money off a bucket at KFC, and I could murder some chips."

Harry shrugged, looking over his shoulder at Liam. "It's up to you," he said. "You hungry?"

"I'm always hungry," Liam said. It was funny; twenty minutes ago he couldn't have thought about eating anything, or doing anything other than going home and hiding in his bedroom with the covers over his head. But now: he could eat chicken. 

"Chicken?" Nick asked, looking at him in the rear view mirror. "Or a kebab? We could go for a kebab. Don't think I've ever had a kebab sober." He made a face. "Scratch that, we're not going for a kebab. What kind of animal is a doner, anyway?"

"Can we get gravy?" Liam asked. His family didn't exactly go out to eat all that often, and he could count the times he'd had KFC on one hand, and have fingers left over. All his fingers left over, actually. He could count on a thumb. "I quite fancy chips and gravy."

"And beans," Nick said. "If you want."

"No beans." Liam didn't think about Louis making him his tea and swapping his beans for peas. He blinked a bit and looked down at his tissue box for a moment. 

"Let's do it," Harry said, and he shifted in his seat so he could lean over the back of his seat and hold his hand out for Liam to take. "You all right, Payne-o?"

"Perfect," Liam lied. "Thanks for this, though."

"No problem," Nick sped up to make the traffic lights, going through on amber by the skin of his teeth. "Members of the crap boyfriends past and present club need to stick together."

"He wasn't my boyfriend."

Harry rolled his eyes. "He's been a giant knobhead, Li."

"He just isn't gay, that's all." Although Louis didn't act like someone who didn't like boys at all. He seemed to initiate kissing a lot for someone who was straight. 

"Shouldn't have slept with you, then," Harry said obstinately. 

"He slept with you?" Nick raised an eyebrow. 

"Not really. Kind of. Sort of."

"Oh my god," Nick said, taking the corner too wide at the next set of lights. "You're going to tell me everything."

Harry poked him in the side. 

"I mean, um. If you want to, obviously."

Liam managed to smile. "All right. When we get inside KFC."

"Right on," Nick pulled into the KFC car park. "If this shuts at ten, we're buggered. Good, it doesn't shut until eleven thirty. Plenty of time for bitching about how crap boys are."

"Um," Harry said. 

"Present company excepted, obviously," Nick said. He parked across two spaces, and climbed out. "Hang on, Liam. Don't try the handle, the child lock's stuck on. Give me a minute." He fumbled with the handle a few times. "There you go, come on out." He waited until Liam had got out before slinging an arm around his shoulders. Liam wasn't used to people being this touchy-feely so easily. His friends did a lot of hugging and stuff, but he only knew Nick at all from what Harry had told him. "Come on, let's go and eat our feelings and mop it all up with gravy."

"Um," Liam managed, which was quite good, all things considered. It had a vowel and everything. 

"Harold, love, go and get us a table. Me and Liam are going up to order."

"Don't I get a choice?" 

"No, Harold. Go sit down and shut up, there's a good boy."

Nick hugged Liam a bit closer. "Sorry, he said, once Harry had gone to sit down. "I'm probably being too friendly. It's a thing, I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Liam said. It did, however, feel a bit weird, being in KFC with a boy with his arm around him. He'd never done this before. "Harry talks about you all the time, anyway. It's a bit like I know you."

"Does he, indeed?" Nick shot Harry a glance, but Harry was busy clearing a table in the corner and wiping the table top down with a napkin. 

"Yep," Liam said. "All the time."

"Well, why wouldn't he?" Nick turned his attention to the menu. "You fancy a deluxe bargain bucket? Look, over there. Four quid off with my voucher."

"Sounds fine," Liam said. "Gravy?"

"Got it," Nick said. "I'll stick it on my card, go sit down. I'll bring it over."

"Okay." The KFC wasn't exactly busy. There were some kids about their age over the other side by the toilets, and a couple with a baby asleep in a pram by the door. A huge guy who was completely bald was reading the paper, but otherwise it was empty. A girl who was almost entirely made up of eye make-up was mopping the floor in a tired, desultory kind of a way. 

Liam sat down next to Harry, and tried to smile. 

"You all right?" Harry said. He put his phone down on the table. 

Liam shrugged. "So-so. Nick's nice."

Harry smiled at that, and glanced over at the counter, to where Nick was paying. "He is, isn't he? Like, he should be a tosser, but he isn't at all."

"He's really nice. It was nice of him to bring us here."

"Yeah. You know what I meant, though? You lot are my best friends, but it feels like he is too. But different."

"I know," Liam said. He felt the same, but about Louis. They were all best friends, but he and Louis were different. He looked down at his lap. 

"You want to talk about Louis? Tell me what happened?"

"Tonight, or full stop?"

"Either. Or not, if you don't want to."

Nick came over with their food on a tray, and made a big deal about bunging it down in the middle of the table. "Tuck in," he said. You owe me four quid each."

Liam got out his wallet and counted out his money in change. "Here you go," he said. 

Harry chucked a tenner at him, and refused to take change. "You buy me enough, shut up."

Liam took a piece of chicken and dunked it in the barbecue sauce. "We've been getting off, whenever we go out. Me and Louis. For a few weeks. Secretly."

"Is this the juicy gossip?" Nick said. He pushed a portion of fries across to Liam, and a tub of gravy. "All yours, love. Which one's Louis again?"

"The straight one," Liam said, dropping a handful of fries into the gravy. 

"Straight boys don't kiss other boys more than once, Liam. Once is a mistake. Anything more than once is bi-curious. Coming back for seconds is at _least_ bi-curious." 

Liam shrugged. "He was drunk."

"And what, he thought you were a hot girl? Nah, pull the other one. Anyway, didn't you sleep together?"

"Not really. I mean. Well. Sort of."

Nick raised an eyebrow. 

Liam looked down at his chips. "We just, um, wanked each other off round the back of the cinema."

"Liam Payne," Harry said, eyes wide. "You did not. When was this?"

"When the rest of you were watching Iron Man last week."

"Oh god," Harry said. "That's amazing. I never would have thought you'd do that."

Liam shrugged again. "Well, I did. And it was a crap thing to do, because afterwards we were just hugging and stuff, and like, kissing a bit, and then he practically ran away and hasn't spoken to me since."

"But there were orgasms, right?" Nick said. "Round the back of the cinema."

"Yeah," Liam said. "There were orgasms."

"Then it counts as sex."

"Not how I imagined my first time going," Liam mumbled. 

Harry leaned over and curled his fingers into Liam's. "Sorry."

"Doesn't matter."

"I'm just saying," Nick said, "that you don't just go around touching other guys' dicks if you haven't got at least _some_ interest in them."

"He says he's straight."

"When's he say that?"

"I don't know. After he tried to kiss me tonight."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "You know he's talking bollocks, right?"

"I don't really care what he's talking. I don't want him not to be my friend. Do you think I can make him be my friend again?"

"Liam," Harry said softly. "Liam."

"Not that I'm like any kind of gay guru," Nick said, "but I'm fairly sure that the very least you can expect from your friends is that they stick around after having sex with you."

"Or that they don't ignore you. Or try and kiss you at the same time as telling you they're not gay."

"It wasn't quite like that," Liam said, but it sort of actually was, so he just concentrated on eating his chips and gravy instead. 

"I know he's your friend," Nick said, after a minute, "but friends don't treat you like this."

"He's in a mess," Liam said obstinately. 

"Yeah, he is. But it's still not necessarily your job to fix it for him, especially if he's behaving like a giant cock."

"A _really_ giant cock," Harry added. "With, like, a lot of pubes."

"Harold Styles," Nick said, in mock-horror. 

"Nicholas Grimshaw," Harry said. "Stop looking like that, shut up."

Liam might be in the process of having his heart broken, but even he couldn't miss the way Harry and Nick kept looking at each other. 

"Oh my god," Nick said, pointing up at the speakers. "This is totally my favourite song at that moment. I'm like, obsessed with it." 

"I don't know who it is," Liam admitted.

"Bastille," Nick said. "They're like, totally amazing. My iPod at the moment is just this, Rihanna, and A$ap Rocky."

"Eclectic," Harry said. 

"Fuck right off," Nick said. "You love my taste in music, shut up."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said. He was eating his way through the chicken, and getting dips all over the table. 

"I've got tickets to the O2 Academy next week," Nick said, licking his fingers. "Do you want to come? You too." He nodded at Liam. "Band might be rubbish, but I've doing an interview with them first."

"Who is it?"

"Who cares? They're free. I hate going to these things by myself. Nobody to talk to. Tuesday night?"

"I'm in," Harry said. 

Liam thought about all his homework, and how hard he had to work to keep up with his friends. "Yeah, sounds great. Thanks."

"Perfect," Nick said, stealing a piece of corn on the cob. "And maybe by then, your boy will have stopped being a knobhead, and everything."

"Don't count on it," Harry said, and Liam dropped his gaze down to his plate again, and tried not to think about Louis at all.

\--//--

When Nick dropped Liam off at his house, it took him four goes to get into the back of his car to let Liam out.

"Sorry," he said. "Bet you thought you were trapped in there forever."

"Nah," Liam said, reaching for his bag. He shouldered it awkwardly, standing on the verge. "Thanks for tonight."

"No problem," Nick said. He leaned in and kissed Liam's cheek, pulling him into a hug. "You've got my number, right?"

"Yep." Liam patted his pocket as Harry came round from the passenger side, and dragged Liam into another hug. 

"It was fun tonight," Nick went on, as Harry squeezed the life out of him. "Let me know if you want to do it again. My mate at the cinema can always get us in for half price, so we can go watch some film where hot boys take their shirts off and we throw popcorn in celebration."

"Fun," Harry said, stepping back. He slipped his hand into Nick's, and Liam watched as neither of them acknowledged it, both staring at Liam like he was the only thing of any importance going on right now. "Come to mine in the morning, we'll walk to school together."

Liam nodded. "All right," he said, and shrugged. Nick and Harry were still holding hands. "Um, I'm going to get in, so good night. Thanks for tonight."

"Don't think about knobheads," Nick advised. 

Even Liam had to smile at that. "I'm going in."

"See you," Harry said, and Liam walked down his drive to his house, and when he sneaked a look back when he got to his door, Harry and Nick were still standing there, looking at each other, still holding hands.

\--//--

Harry looked bleary-eyed and tired when Liam knocked on his door in the morning.

"Hi," Harry said, rubbing his eyes. Harry's mum and step-dad always left for work early. "Do you want toast?"

"Yes," Liam said, even though he'd already eaten breakfast. Was there ever a time in anyone's life where turning down toast would be a valid life choice? "You all right?"

Harry yawned. "Yep," he said, leading the way into the kitchen. "Went to bed too late."

Liam raised an eyebrow as Harry dumped four slices of bread into the toaster. "You and Nick?"

Harry shook his head. "We just went back to his and watched Iron Man. He held my hand, that was it."

"And?" Liam sat down at the counter and dumped his schoolbag on the floor by his feet. Harry opened the fridge and came back with three different kinds of jam, and a jar of marmalade. He came back a moment later with some Utterly Butterly and a handful of knives. Liam wasn't sure why they needed so much cutlery.

"And, it was nice, all right?" Harry shrugged, and sat down next to Liam at the counter. "It was really nice."

Liam smiled at him. "I'm glad," he said, and he was telling the whole truth. Just because things were going wrong for him, didn't mean to say he couldn't be happy they were starting to go right for someone else. 

Harry dropped his head onto his folded arms, and laughed. "So am I," he said, his voice muffled against his jumper. "How can I be this happy about hand holding, seriously?"

"Because you really like him, and he really likes you back?" Liam went to get the toast from the toaster as it popped up, grabbing a couple of plates from the open dishwasher on the way past. 

"Thanks," Harry said, taking a plate. He pushed his tea over to Liam. "You want some?"

Liam took a couple of sips, and handed it back. He could have a cup of his own when he got to school. They had to leave in a minute anyway. 

"You, uh, think he really likes me?"

"Yeah," Liam nodded. "You like each other; it's actually really sweet."

Harry actually blushed. He busied himself putting marmalade on one piece of toast, and raspberry jam on the other. Liam followed his lead. "Now all I have to do is persuade him that the age gap isn't a problem."

"Sounds like he's starting to figure that out for himself."

Harry managed half a smile. "I hope so." He elbowed Liam. "Anyway, how are you?"

"Eh," he said. "Looking forward to today about as much as you'd expect."

"Do you still want to come out at school? Or are we not talking about that yet?"

Liam looked down at his toast. "I still want to. I don't like hiding."

"I thought our idea about buying Attitude and both getting it out at the same time was good."

"Do you want to come out with me? Is that—I think I thought you were joking."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I wasn't joking."

"But, if you get Attitude out, won't everyone think that you're gay and not bisexual?"

"Well, when they start publishing the Bisexual Times, I'll use that instead. But I can just tell people, I don't really care. The important thing is that we both like boys. But not each other."

Liam snorted. "But not each other."

"I'd wish that I did like you, because I'd treat you better than Louis is, but that would mean I didn't like Nick, so."

"It's fine. I don't fancy you, either."

Harry grinned. "Come on, take that with you, or else we're going to be late."

Liam grabbed his toast and his bag, and followed Harry back out into the hall so they could walk to school. He could do this. He _could_.

**NINE.**

**Louis.**

Louis got to school early enough that he could be sure to catch Liam before he got to the common room. He stationed himself by the entrance to the sixth form block, leaning up against the wall with his rucksack by his feet. He'd tried texting Liam last night, after the misunderstanding round the back of the pub, but Liam hadn't replied. Louis' phone was shit, though. Maybe it hadn't sent, or something. That was always a worry. He really needed a new phone.

He also really needed to see Liam, and make sure Liam understood that he'd got it wrong about last night. Louis trying to kiss him hadn't meant anything, and it didn't make Louis _gay_ , and it was very important that Louis fix this so that he and Liam could be friends again and forget any of this week had happened. 

He'd really, really hated this week. 

Louis wasn't gay. He wasn't. This was just a blip. Fancying Liam was a _blip_. A pain in the arse, trouble-causing blip. If he could just get Liam on his own he could explain all of that, without the bit where he admitted to fancying him, and then he could stop worrying about Liam telling everyone something that wasn't true, and get back to finding a new girlfriend. It had been ages since Eleanor had dumped him. Maybe if Niall screwed it up with Cher Lloyd, he could try his luck with her instead. Cher was gorgeous, he could definitely fancy her if he put his mind to it. Anyway, the point was that Louis had a plan, and if he could just execute it effectively then he could put a stop to all of this mess before it escalated into something that resembled a crisis. 

He just needed to get Liam on his own, first. 

He didn't expect to see Liam walking to school with Harry. He straightened up, reaching for his bag. "Liam—"

Liam looked tired and uncertain and awkward. He ducked his gaze away from Louis. 

That felt crap. 

"I don't have anything to say to you," Liam mumbled, looking down at the floor. 

Louis stuffed the memory of kissing Liam time and time again away. "You ran off last night," he tried not to sound desperate. "I didn't get a chance to explain."

"I got it," Liam said. He still didn't look up. Harry looked awkwardly like he was wishing himself somewhere else. Louis half-wanted to join him. 

Louis tried to grab Liam's arm, make him look at him. "You didn't. Come on, please." Oh god, he had to fix this. He had to make it all right. Liam wasn't even looking at him. He sort of wanted to cry. 

Harry inserted himself between him and Liam as Liam stepped away. "How about leaving it for now, hey, Lou?" Harry said, hand to Louis' chest. 

"I don't want to," Louis said, but he didn't push Harry out of the way. Liam looked like he wanted nothing at all to do with Louis, and that felt _shit_. "You've got it all wrong, Liam, you've got to listen to me, please."

"I'm going in," Liam said, ducking his head. 

"Liam, please."

"No," Harry said, fiercer this time. Harry was normally quite like spaghetti, sort of floppy and long, but this time he wasn't letting Louis past. "Leave it. Leave him alone for a bit, all right?"

Not all right. Louis just wanted Liam to _listen_ , so he could explain that it was a mistake, that it was just a bit of fun, that it didn't mean anything, that everyone kissed their friends and it didn't make anyone, and in particular Louis, gay. 

Why wouldn't Liam just listen to him, instead of shaking his head, and walking away, Harry at his heels. All he had to do was _listen_. 

Louis watched him go. He tried not to think too much about how even now, even when Liam was angry at him, and everything was a mess, he still wanted to fucking kiss him. Even though it was going to make everything even more complicated than it was already, even when he needed to persuade Liam that it was just a bit of fun and didn't mean anything. Everything was wretched, and Louis still wanted to kiss him. 

Sometimes Louis really, really wished he understood what was going on inside his head. 

Harry came back after a while, and sat down on the wall next to him. Louis had moved away from the common room, choosing the wall by the fire escape, where no one would walk past and try and talk to him. "You all right?" 

Louis shrugged a shoulder. "Kind of," he said. "Did Liam send you?"

"Yep," Harry said. "He's worried about you. Not that he should be, you've been crap."

Louis jerked his head up. "Haz—"

"Christ, Lou. Why did you pick _Liam_ to mess with? Out of all of us? You should have just snogged Zayn or Niall, they would have told you to go fuck yourself, or something. You could have picked me, and I would have just told you I fancied someone else, and to go snog a random."

"It wasn't—" Louis didn't know what to say. He could feel sweat beading all the way up and down his back. "I don't know what he told you, but he's got it all wrong, none of it meant anything, he's got totally the wrong impression, you can't—"

"Shut up," Harry said. "Stop it. You know Liam better than that. He'd never go behind your back. He thinks he's being chivalrous, or something, keeping your name out of it. I guessed."

"There's nothing _to_ guess," Louis said. God, how could he fix this? He had to fix this, so that everything went back to how it was, and nothing was messed up. 

"I found him crying in the bus stop last night," Harry went on, "because you made him upset, so I put two and two together, because I'm not an idiot, and I knew he liked someone who was messing him about, but he wouldn't tell me who. He sent me back here to make sure you're all right but, I'm not kidding, right now I don't really care if you're okay or not."

"I didn't—" Louis said. He could feel tears burning behind his eyes. He blinked furiously, determined not to let it show. "It was just a bit of fun, just messing around. It's not my fault he got the wrong end of the stick." He'd made Liam cry. Oh god. He felt sick.

"You don't pick Liam to have a bit of fun with," Harry said. "It's mean. And you're a shit."

Louis swallowed, and looked the other way. "I can't stop doing it," he said. His voice caught. "I'm trying, but it just keeps happening. I can't make it right. I keep thinking that each time's the last time, but it just happens again. I think about kissing him all the time."

Harry looked at him. "Lou—"

"It doesn't mean anything," Louis said, his voice low. "It doesn't mean _that_."

Harry looked like he felt sorry for him. Louis was torn between wanting to cry and wanting to hit something. Someone. Himself. Fuck. 

"Lou," Harry said again. "Lou, can you hear yourself?"

"No, I—" Louis shrugged again, trying for nonchalant. "I was just drunk and wanted a snog."

"I don't believe you," Harry said. "And Liam doesn't believe you either. And you are aware that you can actually fancy a bloke and not be gay, right? You can be bisexual, you know."

"I'm straight," Louis said, but even to him it sounded like a lie. 

"Someone's going to punch you at some point," Harry said finally. "It'd be me, except I'm crap. It should be Liam, but he's too nice."

Louis pressed his hands to his eyes, just for a moment. This was getting outside of his control. It was bad enough when it was just Liam, but now Harry knew too. He needed to get some control over this, before it started to spread, and everyone knew. "I know what it looks like," he said, and he hoped that the waver in his voice wasn't as noticeable to Harry as it felt like to him, "but honestly, it was just a bit of fun. I was crap to do it with Liam, but I was drunk, and I made a shit decision that's going to fuck us up unless he listens to me. Why can't I make him understand—"

"It's all right to fancy him, you know. It's all right to feel like that."

Louis thought about his real dad, who he never spoke to, and his step-dad who wasn't around as much as he used to be, and his uncles, and his cousins, and the neighbours, and his teachers, and his mum, who needed him, and his sisters, and his friends, and how they might look at him if they knew how he felt about Liam. He couldn't face that. 

"It's all right to want to kiss him, Lou."

"It isn't," Louis said softly. He looked down at his feet, and tried not to cry. His head hurt. 

"You're fucking him up," Harry said. "You're messing with his head."

"It's not like I want to."

Harry didn't say anything to that. He looked over at the sixth form block. The bell was going to go in a minute. 

Louis really, really wanted a hug. He tried not to think about the hugs Liam gave, and what it might feel like to be held. Liam had such broad shoulders, and he always made Louis feel so—so _safe_. 

"It's all right to fancy him," Harry said again. "But it's not okay to mess him around. You can't do that to him anymore, Lou. You can't."

"I know," Louis said, after a minute. "I won't anymore." 

He could do this, he _could_. He could stop wanting him. He could. 

"Bell's gone. Are you coming in?"

"In a minute." Louis scuffed the toe of his trainer against the ground. "You go on."

"You should say sorry to him. If you want to fix it, I mean."

Louis nodded, but didn't look up. "All right."

He waited until Harry was inside before scrubbing at his eyes with his sleeves. Bisexual or gay, it didn't matter which he was. He couldn't face telling people either way. But it was all right. He could just pretend, and one day he'd wake up, and he wouldn't want to kiss Liam any more, and everything would be okay again. 

It would. 

It had to be.

\--//--

He tried to get Liam on his own at break, and again at lunch, but Liam was good at surrounding himself with people, and even better at ignoring Louis in favour of talking to everyone else. He had skills Louis hadn't even noticed before. He would have been impressed if he hadn't been desperate.

In the end, he sat down with Jesy when she plonked herself down next to Liam, and tried to muscle in on their conversation. 

"Haven't seen you today," Jesy said, one hand to Liam's arm. "Harry said you went home sick last night. Are you better now?"

"I'm fine," Liam said, with only a glance at Louis. "Just felt proper dodgy last night."

Jesy wrinkled her nose. "You weren't sick, were you? I hate it when people are sick. Makes me want to gip myself."

"Nope," Liam shook his head. "Just felt like I was going to. No one needed to see that."

"So long as you're better now. I'm going to make a cuppa, you want one?"

"I'm fine," Liam said. "I'll save your seat for you, though." The seats in their booth were always at a premium at lunchtimes. 

"You better had," Jesy shot Louis a glare. "I know you, Tomlinson. If you steal my seat, I'll cut your balls off."

Louis held his hands up. "Would I?" 

"You know it. Remember—if you're in my seat, your balls are mine. And not in a sexy way. I want a man, not a boy."

Louis would normally have something to say to that, but right now he couldn't think of anything that wasn't getting Liam on his own and fixing this so that everything went back to how it was before. 

Jesy narrowed her eyes, hit him round the head with her pencil case, and headed for the kitchen. 

"Liam—" Louis said, inching closer. Everyone around them was being loud and annoying and celebrating the end of their hangovers with two packets of party rings and a two litre bottle of Tizer, like they were six again and this was a party. He wouldn't be surprised if they brought out cheese and pineapple on sticks next.

"I'm busy, and that's Jesy's seat." Liam said, clearly pretending to concentrate on his homework. "Can we just—let's just leave it for now, all right?"

"Party ring?" Perrie passed them the packet. She grinned at him as she turned back to Zayn and Jade, immediately launching into a list of all the ways that the Fast and the Furious was a spectacular film franchise. Zayn maintained he hadn't seen any of them, which was a lie, because they'd watched one on Niall's birthday last year. Potentially they'd been too drunk to take it in, though. Liam took a biscuit, and passed it on to Louis.

Louis took it, and his fingers brushed Liam's. 

Liam jerked back and hid his fingers in his lap. "Sorry." 

"Sorry," Louis echoed, flushing. He took a pink and yellow party ring and didn't pass the box on. "Look, Liam—"

"I mean it," Liam said in an undertone. "I really, really don't want to talk to you today."

"Come on, please. I just want to talk about last night."

"Well, I don't. Do you know what, I've got a free this afternoon. I'm just going to go home now, all right? Weekend starts here. Tell Harry and Niall when they get back from the shop, okay?" He bundled up all of his stuff and bunged it into his rucksack, as Jesy came back from the kitchen nook with a cup from the vending machine. "Hey, Jess, have you got the instructions for the business studies homework in your locker? I want to copy it before I go, I don't know where I've put my bit of paper."

"Liam," Louis said. 

Liam ignored him, and directed his attention towards Jesy. "It's okay if you haven't." 

"It's not due until next Thursday."

"I know," Liam said. "I want to get started on it at the weekend, though." 

"Anything for you," Jesy said, elbowing him as she climbed over Perrie and out around the huge pile of all their bags. 

"You're a gem," Liam told her, and Jesy rolled her eyes. 

"Shut up," she said, but she was laughing. 

Louis didn't follow them, but he watched Liam all the way out of the common room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EVERYTHING HAS CONSPIRED AGAINST ME. So far this week I have had to buy a new netbook, as the old one refused to switch on, and _still_ refuses to switch on, and my ipod has crashed eight times in the last day, and my phone isn't running as it's supposed to, and TECHNOLOGY HATES ME. And I am sick. :( However, technology also hated my beta, who was also having computer problems. So, I have to offer all of the hearts at my disposal to **jenepel** , who gave up her own plans when we met this evening to write, and betaed this for me instead. You are brilliant, my dear. ♥

**TEN.**

**Louis.**

"How was school?" Louis' mum asked, when Louis slouched into the kitchen and started stealing carrots from the chopping board.

"Rubbish," Louis said, stuffing a handful into his mouth. "When's tea?"

His mum slapped his hand away. "In a bit. Stop that, else there won't be any left for anyone else."

Louis leaned over the counter and rested on his elbows. What would Mum say if she knew he fancied Liam? Would she be all right? How on earth was he supposed to say, _I want to kiss my best friend_? There wasn't a way. There just wasn't. He didn't think he'd ever be able to find the words. He hated worrying her. She had enough to cope with without him adding to it with a sexuality crisis.

Louis Tomlinson: without a thing to say. His teachers would be dancing a jig if they knew. 

"You know Uncle Steve," Louis said finally. Uncle Steve told camp jokes and made his wrist go all floppy whenever gay people came on the telly. 

"Yes," Mum dropped the carrots into a pan of water. She opened the oven a bit, just to peer at the pie. "I am aware of his existence."

Louis didn't know how to ask if Uncle Steve would be all right with a nephew who wasn't entirely straight but didn't know how to label himself either. "Nothing. Doesn't matter."

"Lou."

"It's nothing." Louis shrugged. He filled a glass of water from the tap, and went back into the living room to watch TV with his sisters. He got his phone out from his pocket, and thumbed to a new message. He typed L-I-A-M into the to: line and then texted, _Do you want to come over to mine tomorrow? Am babysitting, my sisters like you better than they like me anyway. tommo x_

The reply didn't come for a while. Louis had almost given up hope when it finally buzzed. _I cant. See you on mondayyyy_

Oh. _Ok_ , he sent back. _See you Monday._ His chest felt all tight. His hands weren't shaking, but it was a close thing. 

After a while, he went upstairs and sat on his bed and looked down at his phone. There was nobody he could phone up to talk to; only Liam, and Liam didn't want to talk to him. And didn't _that_ feel crap. 

In the end, he called Stan. 

"Hey, loser," Stan said, as soon as he picked up. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing," Louis lied. Stan had been his best friend at primary school; he'd gone to a different secondary school, but they still saw each other. Less frequently now that there wasn't a five-a-side league at the leisure centre anymore, but they still kept in touch. "Just haven't spoken to you in ages."

Stan laughed. "You're such a liar. You only phone me when you've got something to say, and you sound like crap."

"Nah," Louis said. "Just checking in."

"Fine, all right. Yeah, things are good. Got back together with Alice."

"Great." Alice was Stan's older girlfriend. She'd gone to uni and everything. What she saw in an idiot like Stan, fuck knew. 

"Well, that's my news over and done with. You want to fill me in on what's going on with you, now?"

"It's nothing." 

"But?"

"I fucked up, that's all. Got off with the wrong person."

"There isn't a wrong person, is there?" Stan laughed. "Unless she's going out with your best friend, in which case, that's some major Eastenders shit going down. You planning on having a show down in the square, or something?"

"This was the wrong person." Louis said. In his head, he could hear himself saying, _it was Liam_ , but he couldn't actually bring himself to say it out loud. 

"Unless it was your best mate's girlfriend, or a goat, or I don't know, a right minger, there's no such thing as the wrong girl."

In his head, Louis said, _what if it was a guy?_ He just couldn't say it out loud. He couldn't. Stan's least favourite X Factor contestants ever had been Rylan Clark, followed by Joe McElderry. That might have been because The Climb was such a fucking awful song, or because Rylan was mostly the colour of a tangerine, but Louis couldn't escape from the fact that they were also both gay. How did you ask someone to break down their reasoning for disliking old X Factor contestants? 

"It's nothing," he said finally. "I was only phoning to see if you want to go for a drink or something sometime. It's been ages since we've seen you."

"Why don't you come bowling with me and the lads next week? They've got a league but me and the others just go and be shit together. You could be on our team."

"The shit team? Thanks." It did sound nice, though. Getting away from everyone he knew for a while, and going somewhere where it wouldn't be awkward. "Fine, I'll be on your shit team. When?"

"Either Tuesday or Wednesday, I think. I'll find out and text you."

"Great," Louis hoped he sounded more enthusiastic than he felt. "Anyway, I've got to go, Mum's calling me. Text me, all right?"

"All right. Tell everyone _hi_. We should all go out and get wellied together at some point."

"Sure," Louis said brightly. "Got to go."

He ended the call, dropped the phone down onto the bed next to him, and tried to remember the last time he hadn't felt exhausted.

\--//--

After his sisters had gone to bed, Louis took the opportunity to claim the family computer for his own. He stared at Google images for a while, not knowing what to search for, and then in the end, he typed in _Christian and syed gay eastenders_ and waited for the page to load. There was one of Christian and Syed photoshopped so that they were holding hands in front of a pink heart, and another one of them together in bed, Syed's head pillowed on Christian's bare chest. He remembered that episode.

Something inside of Louis' chest started to ache, and he didn't know why. 

"What are you looking them up for?" His mum asked, coming up behind him with a cup of tea. 

Louis tried to minimise the tab, but he wasn't quick enough. His palms sweated. "No reason." He could feel himself starting to blush. 

"You must have had a reason," his mum said, one hand to his shoulder. 

"Do you remember what Dad used to say about them when they came on screen? Gay boys," Louis said, his heart beat a dull thump in his ears. He remembered his step-dad threatening to change the channel every time the storyline had switched to Christian and Syed. 

His mum cuffed him round the ear. "He didn't. Did he?"

Louis looked down at his lap. "Yeah. Why did he hate them so much?"

His mum looked down at him. "I don't think he did. Christian reminded him of Brian, I know that." Brian had been his step-dad's old business partner, and for reasons that Louis didn't know, he and his step-dad had stopped speaking when they'd disbanded the old business. Had he been like Christian? Louis had been so little when he'd disappeared from their lives. He only vaguely remembered how tall he'd been, and the sound of his laugh in the garden when they'd had long summer barbecues when Lottie was still a baby. 

Louis just remembered watching Eastenders and his step-dad saying, _gay boys_ , and then laughing. 

He couldn't forget the laughing. 

"Why are you looking them up, anyway?" 

"No reason." Louis shrugged. "General studies homework."

"Funny sort of homework."

"Funny sort of subject, general studies." Louis hoped his voice didn't shake too much. He couldn't stop thinking about the picture of Syed with his cheek resting against Christian's chest. He would bet that Liam was good to lie on. He was solid. Any time Louis thought about him, he was like a solid presence in his thoughts. Real, and safe. And broad. 

Why was it that he couldn't think about Liam anymore without wanting to kiss him? 

"You liked Christian and Syed, didn't you?" Louis asked, even though he hadn't meant to. 

Mum looked at him for a long moment before saying anything. "Yes," she said finally. "Louis—is there—do you want to talk about anything?"

Louis shook his head quickly. "No. It's just homework."

She squeezed his shoulder. "Turn that thing off and come and watch the telly for a bit."

"Homework," Louis said, but he sort of felt like he was going to cry. He felt like that a lot at the moment, like he was constantly on the edge of tears. He hated how that felt. Hated. 

"It's late, love. Finish up and come into the living room."

Louis stared at the screen. "All right," he said finally, and closed the window. He shut the computer down. 

It didn't change anything, anyway. Everything was still the same as before. Nothing had changed. He still wanted to kiss Liam.

**ELEVEN.**

**Liam.**

"Come and help me with the washing up, Liam," Mum called up the stairs on Saturday morning.

Liam didn't actually like doing the washing up all that much, much as he liked things being clean and tidy. Pointing it out never got him out of helping with it, though. "Fine," he said, dumping his homework on his bed. He took the stairs down two at a time, and skidded his way into the kitchen. Slippers were rubbish at skidding, but socks were _great_.

"Tea?" Mum asked, holding out the kettle. 

"Yes," Liam said. He wondered if this was a good time to tell her he was gay. He'd been thinking about it, about telling her and his dad, and his sisters. He had to tell them at some point, and he wasn't really one for hiding. Or waiting. He didn't like secrets all that much. "Is there any bacon?"

"It's Saturday," Mum said. "There's always bacon on Saturdays." It had been a family tradition to have bacon sandwiches on Saturday lunchtimes for as long as Liam could remember. Sometimes the bacon was rubbish though, because it was cheaper to get the catering off-cuts than it was to get actual bacon. When he went to Harry's, they always had the extra special range from Sainsbury's. Liam always tried to quell those traitorous feelings he had that made him wish they could afford the nice stuff. 

"Are we having bacon for lunch?"

"We are," Mum said. "There you go, there's your tea." She slid it over to the edge of the sink for him, and Liam took that for the hint that it was, and reached for the dishcloth. She took the tea towel from where it was hanging over the oven door, and held her hand out for the cups Liam was washing. "Are you going out this weekend?"

"Going on a bike ride with Danielle and Eleanor tomorrow. Nothing else, though."

"You, having a quiet weekend? What's going to become of us all?" She carefully took a breath before reaching for the mug Liam was holding out for her. "Everything's all right at school, isn't it?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Liam concentrated on washing up the glasses. It had been a while since school had been a miserable experience for him, but it never seemed to stop his mum or dad from checking. 

"Just doing what mums do best, and worrying," she said. "Your dad's going to fix the fence this afternoon. I said I'd do it, but he started grumbling, you know what he's like. He might like a hand."

"I have this stupid coursework preparation to do. And business studies homework."

"Liam."

"All right. I'll help."

"Good. Are you sure there's nothing else?" Mum looked concerned. He hated that face. It just reminded him of every day at primary school, when his mum would go in to talk to his teachers to find out how his day had gone. Everybody got hit, though. Well. Not everybody. But he couldn't help but wish that every day without fail, his mum wasn't outside the classroom waiting to speak to his teacher. That hadn't helped. 

Liam looked down at the plates in the washing up bowl. "There is something," he said finally. "And don't get upset, or angry or anything."

"What is it?"

"It's really, really not a huge deal, and maybe I should be telling you and Dad together, but I haven't really, um—I haven't planned this."

Mum carefully put the cup she was drying down on the counter by the hobs. "I'll get your dad," she said, and went out into the garden. 

Liam kept the rubber gloves on, and kept on washing up the cereal bowls. He stacked them up on the draining board and moved onto the cutlery whilst his mum got his dad in from the garden. He knew he should be deciding what he wanted to say to them, but every time he thought about it, things got all muddled and confused in his head. He wasn't supposed to be scared of talking to his mum and dad, he just _wasn't_. 

"You're not still getting hit, are you?" his dad asked, coming in from the garden and standing on the mat by the back door with the hedge clippers in his hand. Mum bustled past him and put the kettle on again.

"No," Liam said, shaking his head. "Not for like, years." Well, not quite years, but there was a reason he'd given up going to scouts, and he'd never shared that reason with his friends at school. 

"I thought it had got better since those boys moved out from the end of the road, what were they called? The Howells?"

"I'm not getting hit," Liam said. He took off the marigolds and put them over the tap. 

"But it has got better? Since those boys went?"

"Yes. It's got better. God." The Howells had been boys that didn't go to his school, and magically seemed to leave later and get home earlier than Liam every single day. They'd hang out on their drive, or on the road with their bikes, and give Liam shit. For years. Liam was finally getting a break from them, because their parents had got a divorce and they'd all had to move. Liam had never been happy about people splitting up before. The new people at number four had twin toddler boys and a puppy. It was a nice exchange. 

"So," Mum said. "Liam?"

"Um," Liam said. He leaned back against the sink and folded his arms. "I um—I don't really know how to say this."

"Is it drugs, son?"

" _Geoff_." Mum sounded scandalised. 

"Dad! It's not drugs. Do I look like I take drugs?"

"Those friends of yours drink a lot."

"Everyone drinks. It's not a big deal."

Dad sat down at the kitchen table. "So it's not drugs. And you're not drinking."

"Much," Mum said, reprovingly. 

"Mum." Liam rolled his eyes. "That was once."

"You've got kidney function tests in a fortnight, Liam." 

Liam hated kidney function tests. Even getting to be radioactive for a bit and wee in a special toilet with a WARNING: RADIOACTIVE sign on the door afterwards didn't make the experience any better. The tests were uncomfortable and long and involved him staying still for a very long time with a drip in his arm. At least they didn't hurt. Discomfort didn't really count as actual pain. It took being desperate for the loo to a whole new level, though, and it only got worse when they gave him the diuretic. Kidneys were all about wee, was the thing. 

"I know," he said. "Don't remind me."

Mum's face softened. "Liam—"

"I'm gay," Liam said. "That's what I wanted to tell you." He looked down at his feet. "I told you it wasn't drugs."

"Oh, goodness," Mum said. "Are you sure?"

Liam nodded. "Yes. Totally sure."

"I'm going out to finish that fence," Dad said, standing up again. "I won't want that tea, love."

"Dad—"

"Fence won't mend itself."

Liam blinked back tears. 

His mum busied herself boiling the kettle anyway. She got a packet of Nice biscuits out of the cupboard and opened them up. "Come here," she said, beckoning Liam over. "Have a biscuit."

"I don't want one," he said. 

"Have one anyway," she said, pressing the packet into his hand. "Now, are you sure about this? Because you went out with Danielle all that time, and you _are_ a teenager. You have all these feelings going round and round in your head, and it might just be a phase, have you considered that?"

"It's not a phase." He couldn't explain how kissing a boy had made everything slide into place in his head like it all just fitted. It had been trying the right key in a lock after years of one that didn't quite fit. 

"You're only young, though."

"I know." He took another biscuit. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, love," Mum said. "I'm sure we'll get all this sorted out soon."

"I'm not going to change my mind."

"No, love."

It didn't feel like she was listening. Liam looked down at his biscuit. He didn't want it, but he ate it anyway, just because it was there. 

"I should get on with the washing up," he said, after a minute where he didn't say anything else and his mum looked at the kettle like she half-expected it to sprout legs and get up and walk away. 

"No need for that. I'll finish it. You go upstairs and do your homework. I'll give you a shout when it's time for bacon sandwiches."

"What about Dad?" Liam could see him out in the garden, standing by the broken fence. He wasn't doing anything, just standing there and staring at the ground. 

"Never mind your dad, love. Bit of a shock, that's all. It'll take us both a bit of time to get used to it. If you're sure it's not a phase. Are you really sure?"

Liam nodded. "I'm sure."

"All right then. Take your cup of tea up with you, you don't want it to get cold." She patted him on the sleeve. 

She didn't meet his eyes. 

Liam took his cup of tea, and went back upstairs, and sat on the edge of his bed. He couldn't think of anything to do that would make any of this better. 

In the end, once his tea was cold, he sent a text to Ruth and Nicola. 

_Just told mum n dad im gay. Wanted u2 know to. liam x_

He silenced his phone and put it on the bedside table. He didn't want to know if they reacted like Dad. If he looked out of the window, he could still see him just standing there, over by the shed. 

"Bacon's done," his mum called. "Come and have a sandwich, Liam."

Liam wasn't hungry in the slightest. He felt a bit sick, actually. He went downstairs anyway, and put brown sauce on two slices of tiger bread, dumped three pieces of bacon on top, and then squashed his sandwich down with the heel of his hand. 

"Take that out to your dad," Mum said, handing him a plate with a bacon and egg sandwich on, cut into quarters. There was a piece of kitchen roll too, folded in half, and a mug of tea. 

"How come I only get bacon?"

"Do you want an egg doing? Can do. I thought you just wanted bacon. Broken, or not?"

Liam made a face. "Broken."

Mum still wasn't exactly meeting his eye. "All right. Go on, take that out to your dad before it gets cold."

It was cold outside—way too cold for just socks—so he jammed his feet into a pair of his trainers, not bothering to undo the laces. His dad didn't look up when he went over, not even when Liam handed him his sandwich and the cup of tea. 

Liam stood next to him, and looked at the fence with its broken panel, and shoved his hands into his pockets. 

"It'll probably need two coats," Dad said. 

Liam startled. "What?" 

"Of paint. I think I did two coats on the rest of it. Hope there's enough in the bottom of the can. I'm not buying another can, just for this panel."

"Oh." Was this how they were going to deal with it? He didn't know what he was supposed to say, or do. Were they just ignoring it? He toed at the edge of the lawn with his trainer. "Mum said you might need a hand. Painting."

"Can do," Dad said. "Haven't you got coursework to do?"

"It's just an outline, I think. I can do it later."

"Don't want you falling behind on your work. Deadlines pile up, you know." 

"I know." Liam didn't know what to say. His dad had always been so supportive of him, taking him to singing and drama on Saturday mornings for years, and getting him set up with the boxing when the Howells wouldn't leave him alone. "I'm still going to like the same things, you know."

Dad looked up at that. "What?"

Liam rolled his shoulders in a close approximation of a shrug. "Boxing, and stuff. It isn't going to change me liking any of that. Me being gay."

"I was thinking," Dad said. "Maybe it was me taking you to all those singing and dancing lessons. Maybe it gave you ideas."

"It wasn't dancing, Dad. It was drama. You know that. And it didn't give me any ideas. I just—I don't know. This is just who I am."

"Gay. Maybe I should have taken you to boxing earlier, and not to singing."

"Wouldn't have changed anything." He nodded at the fence. "You want a hand with that, or what?"

"Two heads are always better than one." Dad shook his head. "Don't know what I'm going to tell the boys at work about you, you know. I told them all about that nice girl you brought home. Are you sure this isn't just, I don't know, about you and her breaking up?"

Liam had always, always loved how much his dad—and his mum—had done for him. He'd always been so grateful for all of it, but such a lot of the time he couldn't quite hide the little tendrils of sadness, either, because they got things just a little bit wrong. His mum waiting after school every day to talk to his teachers to make sure he wasn't still getting bullied. His dad telling the guys at the factory about him and Danielle. The CD for his birthday of a band he hadn't listened to for six months. 

The economy bacon in the fridge that wasn't the maple-cured extra special range in Harry's fridge. 

"It's not about Danielle. It's just—I don't fancy girls."

"But you fancied Danielle," his dad persisted. 

Liam shook his head. "I thought I did. But I didn't. Not really."

"I don't know what she's going to say when she finds out you're a—you're batting for the other side."

"She cried," Liam said. "And then she stopped crying and now we're all right."

"Oh. Your friends know, then?"

"A couple of them do, yeah." Liam looked down at the grass again. It really was cold outside. He was starting to shiver. He needed a jumper. 

"Here you go, son," Mum said, coming out with his sandwich. "Now with added egg."

"Thanks, Mum." He took a bite. Brown sauce slid out of the bottom and dripped onto his plate. 

"His friends know, Karen," Dad said. 

"Only some of them, so far."

Mum sighed. "I know you think that you've got this all fixed in your head, Liam, but have you thought about just waitinga bit before you tell people? You might change your mind. And you must know how much harder this is going to make things in your life. It's just an added difficulty. Telling everyone you meet; that's not going to be easy. You can't get married, you know."

"There are civil partnerships," Liam mumbled. And they would change the law soon, they had to. That was what was happening at the moment, wasn't it? "We did them in general studies."

"Not real marriages though, are they?" Mum persisted. 

Liam didn't want his sandwich any more. "You don't mean that," he said, after a minute. His voice sounded all choked up and a bit like he was about to cry. He didn't want to cry. "It's just about people loving people, Mum. It's about _me_ loving people." He tried to blink away the tears, but he couldn't stop them. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. "Mum—"

"Oh, _Liam_ ," Mum was sniffling too, and her eyes were all wet. "We just want the best for you. We always want what's best for you. We want you to be happy."

"I'm happy being gay, Mum." He wasn't right now, but he didn't think that he could really base his entire experience of being gay around coming out to his parents, or Louis being fucked up. He tried to swallow down his tears. Nobody needed him being snotty in the middle of the garden. 

"We just want things to be as easy as possible for you, that's all," Dad said. "You're picking something that isn't easy."

Liam shook his head. "I'm not picking. This isn't a choice. It's just—it's _me_ , Dad. This is me. You don't want _me_."

"We always, always want you," Mum told him. But she was crying, and so was his dad, and nothing said wanting you like your parents crying. She reached for his hand. Her hand was all hot, and sweaty. "You think we're just going to stop wanting you? That'll never happen. Even if we don't understand this yet, we're never, ever going to stop wanting you. You think we could just throw you out with the bath water?"

Liam shrugged. He didn't know what he thought anymore. He hadn't meant his Saturday to go like this. 

"Eat your sandwich," Dad said, in a choked voice. "Your mum made that. It'll go cold."

"Eat yours," Liam said. But he ate his anyway, methodically chewing his way through each bite until his plate was empty. 

It didn't make him feel any better.

\--//--

"You all right, little bro?" Even down the phone, Nicola sounded concerned.

"Yeah," Liam said, cradling the portable phone between his ear and his shoulder as he picked up his glass and his magazine. His mum looked like she half wanted to follow him out of the living room, but he closed the door behind him and went to sit on the stairs. "I'm fine."

"I tried calling your phone, but you didn't answer."

"It's on silent." Liam tried to smile, but he couldn't quite manage it. It wasn't like she could see down the phone, anyway. 

"So, um, you're gay."

"Yeah," Liam said. "Please don't give me any shit about whether I'm sure or not. If I wasn't sure I wouldn't have come out." His afternoon had been an awkward mix of almost-silent fence painting and almost-silent sitting together in the living room watching Ant and Dec's Saturday Takeaway on the telly. 

"As if." She tutted. "That what Mum and Dad have been saying?"

"A bit. That and Dad wondering if he should have taken me to the boxing earlier."

"Well, that's rubbish. Don't listen to them if that's what they're saying. I think it's dead brave, what you've done. Did you tell them earlier?"

"Before bacon."

She laughed. "Good life choice. Although I would have waited until the bacon was actually in my hand. You spoken to Ruth?"

"No. I texted her when I texted you."

"Well, me and her, we're both going to think the same. You're our little brother, and we love you."

"Thanks," Liam said, after a minute where he tried to catch his breath. 

"Hey, and now we can all go out on the pull together. Fight over lads."

Liam snorted at that. "Shut up."

"You want to come over for your tea tomorrow? Or lunch. I could do us some Yorkshire puds. Pile on the gravy. Sausages, too."

"I'm going for a bike ride with Danielle and Eleanor. Sorry."

"Look at you, with all your girls for friends. Have you told them about you liking blokes?"

He shrugged. "I told Danielle. Had to, really. Didn't want her finding out from anyone else."

"You're a good 'un, Liam." He could hear her smiling down the phone. "Come over for your tea one day this week."

"All right." He liked going over to Nicola's. If her friends were over, they always made a fuss of him. 

"Brilliant. And kid, you are all right, aren't you?"

"I'm fine." 

"Okay. Because we worry, you know that, right? And Mum and Dad worry too. But they'll come round."

Liam sighed. "I wish they'd do it quicker, you know? I hate this."

"Go round your friends' tonight. Go out, do something. Bet you're all sitting round the telly like everything's normal."

"It is normal. I'm normal."

"Yeah, I know. I didn't mean—"

"I know," Liam pinched the bridge of his nose. "All right. I'll call someone."

"Call that Louis, he'll cheer you up."

"Maybe." He didn't feel like telling her about Louis. What was there to say, anyway? He'd been an idiot and done some stupid things with someone who didn't want him back. There was no point in going over it. What was done was done. 

"Give me a ring tomorrow, let me know how things are with Mum and Dad. Me and Ruth love you, all right?"

"All right."

When she'd gone, he put the phone back in the cradle on the kitchen counter, and went back in the living room to watch TV, just like before.

\--//--

When they got to the top of the hill at Lanethorp, Liam dropped his bike on the ground and flopped back on the grass like a starfish, arms and legs out. "Shit," he managed, breathless.

Eleanor dropped down on the grass next to him, and tapped his ankle with her foot. "I won," she said.

Danielle sat down at his feet. "I did, you mean."

"Share first place with you," Eleanor laughed, and sprawled back onto the grass, arms wide. 

Liam felt compelled to point out that his bike was rubbish. It only had three gears, and only two of them actually worked. And those only periodically.

"A bad workman always blames his tools," Danielle grinned. 

Liam tipped his head back. His mind was on other things, not that he felt like pointing that out. He was just going to try and enjoy the day. It was a bright, sunny morning and they'd been cycling for well over an hour to get to the top of the hill, the gentle slope turning into a punishing slog for the last twenty minutes or so. Liam always thought he was pretty fit until he came up against Danielle, but then Danielle danced for countless hours every week, and helped run the lessons for the little ones. She always had been able to outpace him. 

He closed his eyes and let the sun seep into his skin. When he'd hated primary school, and scouts, his parents had always tried to persuade him that going out into the garden might be a good idea. Maybe they were right after all. 

Danielle and Eleanor had started to talk about university again. 

"I don't think I'm going to go," Danielle said, after a while. "I think—I mean, I don't know if it's going to go my way or not, but I think I actually want to try dancing. Professionally, I mean. Auditioning and stuff."

"You should," Eleanor said. "You're so great at it, and you love it. That's better than going to uni just for the sake of it."

"And I can go in a couple of years if the dancing doesn't work out."

"Yeah, exactly."

"My parents are going to go mad, though. They've got their heart set on me going to uni. I think they're already thinking about what to wear when I graduate."

"They can pick what they're going to wear when they see you dancing for the first time instead." Eleanor grinned. "It'll be great. I still can't decide between Leeds and Manchester. I'm going to apply for them both obviously, but if they both make me an offer, which one's going to be my firm, and which one's going to be my conditional?"

One thing Liam had always, always liked about Eleanor was how sure she was of herself. Leeds and Manchester were both really good unis, and the entrance requirements were going to be really high. She never thought she wouldn't get the grades, not like Liam. Liam—if pushed—usually said something about a gap year because the chances were that his AS level results wouldn't be good enough, and he didn't even want to think about year thirteen. There was a sound engineering course at the college in town, but he hadn't really looked into it all that much. Maybe he should have gone there instead of sixth form, but his friends were staying at school, so there hadn't exactly been much of an incentive to leave and go elsewhere. Regardless, there wasn't much point in thinking about it now. He still had his AS levels to get through, and then A2s after that. What he was going to do later could just wait. 

"You're quiet," Danielle said after a while, leaning over to poke Liam in the side. "You all right?"

"Yeah," Eleanor said. "You went home sick on Thursday night. You sure you're not coming down with something?"

"Just tired," Liam said, which wasn't a lie. He hadn't slept particularly well last night, tossing and turning for ages until he'd finally dropped off, once he'd stopped thinking about not being friends with Louis anymore. "I like listening to you both, though. You know what you want to do."

Eleanor smiled. "Don't you?"

"Nah," Liam said. He faked a grin. "The world's my oyster, or something."

Danielle was watching him with narrowed eyes. "I know you," she said. 

She did, but Liam didn't feel like talking about himself any more. He just wanted some time off from the inside of his head for a bit, that was all. "Tell me about the kind of dancing you want to do, Dan. I want to hear."

Danielle knew that something was up, but she didn't push it. That was partly why he liked her so much. "I think if I ended up being like in real life Brittany from Glee, and dancing with Beyonce, I could cope with that. I suppose. If I had to."

Eleanor and Liam burst into laughter. 

"I know, I know," Eleanor said. "It'd be a trial, but you'd cope."

"You'd force yourself," Liam added. He looked up at the sky. "What do you reckon it'd be like, being on stage like Beyonce, in front of all those people?"

"Dunno," Danielle said. "I'll tell you when I get there."

"And I'll tell you what it's like when I'm in Westminster," Eleanor added. "I'll go on Question Time and wipe the floor with those sexist dickheads who think they can run everything."

"Right on," Danielle held her hand up for a high five. "We're going to be _brilliant_."

"So brilliant," Eleanor agreed. "How are you going to be famous, Liam?"

Liam stopped looking up at the clouds. He blinked away the sun, and shielded his eyes. "I'm going to sing, I think." He hadn't said anything like that for a while. 

"Like Beyonce," Danielle said. "You'll be great."

"You could cover Single Ladies," Eleanor said. "So long as you don't mind singing about a guy putting a ring on it."

"I wouldn't mind," Liam said, not looking at her. There was an interesting-looking tree over at the brow of the hill, hanging over the edge of a rocky outcrop. His parents were still being weird. Dad had left half of his cornflakes in his bowl this morning, pretending he'd finished so that he could go through into the garage and not sit with Liam at the table. He'd put a hand on Liam's shoulder as he walked by, so it wasn't like everything was terrible, but the way they were reacting still hurt. Mum didn't know what to say to him, and Dad didn't want to be in the same room as him, and the really, really shit thing was that he was doing all of this partly because he wanted to be Louis' boyfriend, and that was the one thing that was never, ever going to happen. 

"I brought a flask of tea," Danielle said, reaching for her rucksack. "And grapes."

"I've got sandwiches," Eleanor said. "Ham and cheese."

"Brilliant," Liam said. He had three apples and two bags of salt and vinegar crisps. They weren't Walkers, so he'd put them in a Tupperware box so that it wouldn't be so obvious they were Asda value crisps, and that he didn't have three packets to share. "Here you go."

Danielle curled into his side. "Don't think I don't know you're not okay." 

Liam made a face, and leaned forward to grab a sandwich. "Don't worry about me."

"Hmmm," Danielle said. "I'll get it out of you."

In the end, she did. They biked back after lunch, and Eleanor hugged them both before peeling off down towards her house. Danielle and Liam stood on the corner of Danielle's street with their bikes next to them, and ignored the kids who were playing piggy in the middle right in the centre of the road.

"Well?"

"I'm going to come out this week," Liam said, as they wheeled their bikes down the road. "Tell everyone."

"When? I could be on hand to be, I don't know, extra supportive or something."

"We're just going to get copies of Attitude out of our bags and read them and wait until people notice."

"We?" Danielle leaned her bike up against the wall outside her house. 

Liam shrugged, flushing a bit. "Me and Harry. We're going to do it together."

Danielle raised an eyebrow. "Harry?"

"Don't tell anyone, this is his news, not mine. He's got it so bad for Nick, you have no idea."

"So it's not, um, you and him, then?"

Liam wrinkled his nose. "No? I mean, Harry would probably be a good boyfriend and everything, but I don't fancy him."

"You ever going to tell me who you do fancy?"

"Not right now." He shrugged again. "Think we're going to do it on Wednesday."

"Tell me when, and I'll be there." 

Danielle was fucking great. If he could fancy her, he'd really like it. It was just a pity that he liked Louis instead. And penises in general. 

Brave new world. 

Danielle leaned in to kiss his cheek. "I have to get in, I've got to go to dance in a bit. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Liam waited until she'd gone through the side gate and leaned her bike up against the kitchen door before he got back on his bike, freewheeling down the street and through the ginnel onto the road below. _Yeah_.

\--//--

_Do u fancyyyyy chips 2night nialler cos I want chipssssssssss_. He pressed send and downed the rest of his bottle of water in one. He didn't want Niall to be the only one of them that had no idea that Liam was gay when he came out properly, to everyone. He had two quid in his wallet, and that was probably enough for a portion of chips.

_Fuck yeah chips. When?_

Liam glanced down at his watch. _Now?_

_See you at the chippie in ten_

This was the kind of friend Liam needed right now; one who understood the importance of chips. 

In the end, they got two cones of chips, drowned them in salt and vinegar, and then went and sat on the wall by the edge of the school playing fields and moaned about forgetting ketchup. 

"We're rubbish," Niall said, stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth. "Who forgets ketchup?"

Someone who didn't have a spare ten pence for a sachet, but Liam didn't say that. "Ketchup's great."

"I know." Niall kicked his feet a little miserably. "You want to come to mine afterwards and watch the telly? My brother's out, we can raid his DVDs if you want."

"All right." Liam had homework to finish, but this week it was just like one long list of people he had to come out to, and everything else felt like it was taking a back seat. He'd be glad when he was properly out and he could just stop thinking about hiding. Hiding was rubbish. "I've got to tell you something first." He didn't say, _you might not want me to come over after_. Not that he expected Niall to react badly, but he'd had high hopes of his parents, and look how that turned out. They were still awkwardly hardly talking to him and trying to tell him they loved him by making him cups of tea. 

"Tell me what?" Niall stabbed four chips in a row with his little wooden chip fork. 

"Um," Liam said. "I'm going to come out this week."

"Come out of what?"

Liam managed to grin at that. "Come out, come out. Like, um, I'm gay. That kind of coming out."

"You're never," Niall said. He hadn't quite managed to get as far as eating the chips. His fork hovered at about chin level. "No way."

"Yes way?"

"But, like. You used to shag Danielle."

"We didn't sleep together," Liam pointed out. "We were like, fifteen."

"Wow. Like, _wow_." 

Liam held a hand out, palm up, and shrugged his shoulders. "Surprise?" he said, a little weakly.

"Fuck," Niall said. "How long have you been keeping this secret? Did you know when you were going out with her? Do you have a boyfriend? Who else knows?"

Liam contemplated putting his face in his hands, but he was hampered by his chips. "Um, not long, I didn't know then, but I know now, there isn't anyone, and Harry knows, my mum and dad know, Nicola and Ruth know, Danielle knows, and Zayn sort of, kind of knows." He deliberately didn't say Louis.

"Wow," Niall said again. 

"You are, like, all right with this, right?"

Niall rolled his eyes. "What kind of dickhead do you take me for? Of course I'm okay with it, idiot." He shifted back a bit. "You don't fancy me, do you? Because I think you're great and everything, but I can't really imagine sucking a dick. It's not your dick in particular or anything."

Liam could imagine sucking a dick, but that was beside the point. "Don't fancy you in the slightest. Sorry."

"I don't know whether to be pissed off you don't fancy me, or pleased it's not me you're in love with."

"I'm not in love."

"Bollocks," Niall pointed his fork at Liam. "I bet you've got your eye on someone."

"Never," Liam lied. He bumped his elbow into Niall's. "You're a good person to come out to."

"Sure I am." Niall beamed. "I'm fucking awesome, I am."

Liam laughed at that, and jumped off the wall. He still had chips to eat. "Come on, let's go back to yours."

"Still not shagging you," Niall said, jumping down after him. They could cut across the all-weather pitch and climb over the wall by the bus stop, short cut to Niall's. 

"Your dick does nothing for me," Liam said, making his best sad face. "Sorry, and everything."

"My dick's great," Niall grabbed his crotch. "Fucking great."

"Eat your chips, Niall." 

"Shut up, Liam. See if I let you pick the DVD now."

He did, anyway. They watched Hot Fuzz in Niall's living room, and afterwards, Niall lent him the money so they could go to the shop and get a Cornetto. 

He had some good friends, at least.

**TWELVE.**

**Louis.**

"Hi," Louis said, climbing over the back of the bench in the common room and sitting down next to Liam at the start of lunchtime on Monday.

"Hi," Liam put his pen in his book to keep the page, and shut it. He sounded awkward. "You all right?"

Louis really didn't know how to make this all better. All he could think about, all the time, was Liam, and kissing him, and then kissing him _again_. He fancied him rotten. He just also knew that he couldn't give in to it. The horror of imagining people knowing that he liked Liam like that made him come out in a cold sweat. Would Uncle Steve want to be in the same room as him? What about the people he knew that said, _that's so gay_ , when they meant, _that's so stupid_? How could he tell _them_ he wanted to kiss a boy? He wasn't brave at all. "Are you still not talking to me? Because that makes things sort of not all right."

"I'm not _not_ talking to you," Liam said finally. 

Louis glanced at everyone else. They were playing that stupid game that they'd all been obsessed with in year eight, when you tried to lift someone up and then pretended you could levitate them. Niall was currently lying right across the middle of the table, everyone crowded around him, maintaining he was too heavy to lift up. "Were you really busy on Saturday?"

Liam looked down at his business studies textbook. "I was busy coming out to my mum and dad."

Louis could feel himself turning a worrying shade of pale. He tried not to look over at everyone to see if they'd heard, but he couldn't help himself. He looked back at Liam, who didn't seem to be all that worried about anyone listening in. Louis didn't understand how he wasn't worried. Luckily everyone else was too engrossed in lifting Niall up to be paying them any attention, and Harry—who Louis knew knew about them—wasn't around. They were safe. "What did you tell them?"

"Not about you, don't worry." Liam looked down at his knees again. He sat on his hands. "Just about me."

"Don't tell them anything about me." Louis said it before he knew what he was doing, and he watched Liam's face change. Louis thought he might actually want to curl up under the table and cry, just because everything was such a mess and so confusing, and everything he said or did turned out to be the wrong thing. 

"I wouldn't." Liam wasn't looking at him. "Anyway. There's nothing to tell them, is there? You're not gay."

"No," Louis said, after a while of battling the voice in his head which was trying to tell him otherwise. Fancying Liam didn't necessarily mean that. It didn't. "And don't say it so loud."

"The only person I'm outing is me. You don't need to worry." Liam stood up, holding his lunchbox out. Louis couldn't figure out why. "Anyway, I've got something to tell you, but I don't want to do it here. Do you want to go outside?"

"Should I worry?" Louis tried to keep his voice light. 

Liam shook his head. "No. Come on."

Louis worried anyway, just because. He was worrying a lot at the moment; he kept waking up in the middle of the night and not being able to get back to sleep. He stood up and followed Liam out into the corridor and round the back of the sixth form IT suite. 

Liam leaned against the radiator. "Lou—I wanted you to know before everyone else. I'm going to tell everyone this week. That I'm gay. I'm going to come out."

Louis tried—and probably failed—not to look horrified. "Why?"

"Why not? Anyway, it's not got anything to do with you. You've made that much clear, at least."

Louis wanted to form his thoughts into something vaguely coherent, but he couldn't. Everything was such a mess. He tried to pick a single thought out of the tangle in his head. "How can you be sure?" he managed finally. "How can you know for certain? What if you've made a mistake and you're not actually gay, what then? What if it's just this one thing, and it never happens again? You can't exactly come back in if you've got it all wrong."

Liam looked like he wanted to cry. "I just know, okay. I _know_ , just like you know you're not gay. And I can't see the point in lying about it. Lying's rubbish."

"You should still wait," Louis persisted, trying to ignore _just like you know you're not gay_. "Just in case you're wrong. Give it some time, just in case."

Liam shook his head. He still looked like he was going to cry, but his jaw had that stubborn edge to it that Louis recognised from years and years of being friends. "I don't need to give it time, Lou. And you can't stop me telling people. I'm not telling them about you and me."

Louis flushed a dark pink. "Liam—"

"How about we just don't talk about it anymore? I'm going to come out, and I'm not going to tell anyone about you and me, and you're most definitely, one hundred per cent, not gay. That's right, right?"

 _I don't know_. _I don't know anything anymore_. He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared down at his feet. A muscle pulsed in his cheek. "Yeah," he said finally, and Louis had been keeping a pretty tight hold on his heart these past few days, but it was possible that it splintered, just a little bit, just enough to hurt, at the expression on Liam's face.

"Okay," Liam said. "Glad that's sorted."

"I hate not talking to you."

"You treated me like crap," Liam said, after a minute. "I—I need you to at least bloody acknowledge that, you know? Because I didn't imagine it."

"Liam—"

"I know, I know. Not gay."

Louis didn't look up. He thought about Liam all the time. Kissing him had been better than kissing any of the girls he'd got off with. Liam made him feel things that nobody else did, or ever had. Liam made him feel _safe._ He could never admit that, not even if he was a hundred times braver than he actually was. "Some things are just hard to say."

Liam blinked a bit. "I know," he said. "But you still need to apologise."

Louis knew that if he opened his mouth he'd say something like, _I think I love you_ , or _please don't go_. He bit the inside of his cheek, and looked the other way. He was scared, and he was a coward, and he didn't look back over until he knew that Liam had given up and walked away.

**THIRTEEN.**

**Liam.**

"Are you ready for this?" Harry asked, once Liam had turned up at his house and they'd started walking to school. Today was the day. Official coming out day.

"Oh yeah," Liam said, which was only partly a lie. "Got my Attitude magazine and everything." He patted his rucksack. Maybe they should have thought this through a bit more and included biscuits or something too. He could eat a biscuit now. Settle his nerves. And his stomach, fuck. 

"Got mine too," Harry said, angling his bag towards Liam as if that meant Liam was able to see inside. 

"Right then," Liam said. 

"You still want to do this?"

"Yep," Liam said. "I just think—it'll be easier, right? When everyone knows? I fucking hate secrets."

Harry looked at him with sympathy. 

"Don't, okay. Just don't." Louis had progressed from not talking to him at all to following him around everywhere and looking tired and sad. Liam had never been able to hazard that much of a guess about what went on in Louis' head, but this was hitting new levels of confusing. "He's driving me mad. He won't stop following me around, but then I try and talk to him and he goes all quiet and runs off."

"I think he's going a bit mental," Harry said carefully. "When I saw him after school last night, he looked like he'd been crying."

Liam looked down at the ground. He already knew this; Harry had told him when they'd been at the Academy last night with Nick. The band had been rubbish, so they'd spent most of the evening hanging around at the back and making fun of all the people in stupid clothes. Nick and Harry were edging around each other in a weird, hipster kind of a dance that had to be nearing some kind of conclusion. It really, really did, if only because Liam could pick up on the sexual tension, and Liam generally had the awareness of a doughnut when it came to things like that. "I don't know what's going on with him," he said finally. 

Harry shrugged. "Me neither. He's not telling me much."

"He's not telling anyone." Liam let out a breath. "I'm going to try to talk to him later. Properly."

"I'll try again, too. I mean, he's being an idiot, but it's rubbish watching him mess everything up."

"I know. Let's not talk about him for a bit." He bumped his elbow into Harry's. "You read any of that Attitude magazine yet?"

"Nope. Saving it for this morning."

"This is ridiculous."

"It's crazy," Harry agreed. "Nick sent me all these mp3s last night to put on my iPod. It's a coming out playlist; I'll send it to you. It starts with _It's Raining Men_."

Liam snorted. "Oh god."

"We should have choreographed some kind of dance routine. Interpretative dance."

"We'd have been really good at that."

"You might have been," Harry conceded. "I would have looked like an idiot. I dance like a drunk goat."

Liam—loyal to a fault—thought it best to say nothing to that.

\--//--

In the end, it was easy.

Jesy laughed at the two of them sitting there, identical magazines held open, hand over her mouth, and said, "What are you two doing?"

"Coming out," Harry said.

Liam snorted at that, nervousness bubbling through him and catching in his throat. "Yeah," he said, and his voice caught. He cleared his throat. "We're coming out."

Danielle smiled at him, and winked. "Good on you."

"Yeah," Zayn said, looking questioningly at Harry. "Good on you."

"Are you two—?" Leigh-Anne gestured between the two of them, grinning, and Liam snorted again. "Is this for real?"

"Strictly good friends," Harry supplied, bumping his knee into Liam's. "We just thought we'd do this together. You know. But yeah, it's real. He's gay, I'm bi."

"Yeah," Liam nodded. "We thought it would be less terrifying if it was the two of us together."

Jesy leaned over and wrapped her arm around Liam's shoulders. She kissed the top of his head. "You're an idiot to be scared of telling us," she said. "What are the two of you like?"

Niall rolled his eyes, and came over to kick Liam in the shin. "You didn't tell me you were scared, dickhead. I would have told you you were being a numpty if you had."

Liam shrugged awkwardly, and tried not to look across the table to where Louis was sitting, looking down at his knees. "It's coming out, isn't it? It's supposed to be scary."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Hey, just think, we only have to do this every single time we ever make a new friend, or start a new job, or anything. Forever. Isn't that brilliant?" 

Liam grimaced at that. "Here's to the next twelve hundred times we have to do this."

Harry bumped his copy of Attitude into Liam's. 

Across the other side of the booth, Louis made a strangled, desperate kind of a noise, and pushed past Jade and Perrie to head for the common room door. 

Liam's chest went painfully tight. Harry made to stand up, but Liam stopped him. "No, I'll go." He dropped his Attitude down onto the chair and went out after Louis into the corridor. 

He found him in the disabled toilet, bracing himself with a hand to either side of the sink, crying. 

"Louis," Liam said, appalled. 

Louis turned away to face the wall, dragging his sleeve across his eyes. "Go away," he said. His voice caught in a sob.

"Lou—"

"I'm fine. Go _away_."

"No," Liam said stubbornly. He closed the door behind him, and locked it, then touched his hand to Louis' shoulder. Louis flinched away. He was shaking. "Talk to me, please."

Louis shook him off. "There's nothing to say," he said, still resolutely looking the other way. He was still crying. Liam could see, and Louis was making no effort to disguise the fact. 

"Course there is, if you're crying." Liam tried to sound reasonable, but the truth was, he didn't feel it. Nothing had made sense about Louis' behaviour for weeks now, but this was new levels of confusing. He remembered his dad asking him if he was on drugs, and couldn't help but at least wonder if there was something else going on in Louis' life that Liam just didn't have a clue about. 

"How could you just _do_ that?" Louis asked, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "Don't you care what people think of you?"

"What—?" Liam frowned. "Who are you talking about?"

"Out there," Louis persisted. "Telling everyone. Telling people that you're—" his voice caught on _gay_. 

"Oh. Lou—they're my friends. They're my friends, and I'm gay, and I don't want to keep that a secret from them. I want them to know. And I'm not ashamed of it. What's there to be ashamed of?"

"But how did _you_ know?" Louis asked. "How do you know? How can you be sure?"

Liam let out a breath. He might not be the most perceptive person in the world, but even he could tell they weren't talking about him anymore. He touched Louis' shoulder again, tentative and unsure. Louis didn't push him away, and after a moment, Liam stroked his hand down Louis' arm, cupping his elbow. "Why didn't you tell me you were in such a mess?"

"I'm _not_ ," Louis said, sniffing and wiping his nose on his sleeve again. 

Liam didn't say, _liar_. He reached for Louis' hand, all the time knowing that it was probably a really, really stupid idea. "Louis. Lou."

"I've tried to make it stop. I've tried and I've tried, but I can't make it go away."

Liam slowly, awkwardly, covered Louis' hand with his own. "Made what go away, Louis?"

Louis looked down at their hands. He tried to sniff away a sob. "It's nothing. It's fine. It'll go away. It will."

"What will?"

Louis shook his head. "I try not to think about kissing you," he said finally. Liam's chest got tight again. "I try, and I try, but it's all I think about. You're all I think about. But I don't know what it means."

Liam didn't say anything to that. He stroked at the back of Louis' hand with his thumb, and hoped it helped. 

"I should know, shouldn't I? Like—the way you make me feel, I _know_ that's gay. I know that, but it still doesn't make anything else in my head make sense. I feel like I'm going insane."

"You can be bisexual too, you know. Harry's bi."

"I know, I'm not stupid." Louis shrugged. He didn't pull away from Liam's hand, and Liam moved a little closer, his other hand going for Louis' other arm, sliding over his bicep. "Why's it so easy for you? How did you just, I don't know, figure it all out so easily? Why is it just my head that's totally fucked up? I don't have a fucking clue. I don't know if I fancy girls any more, and I don't know if I fancy blokes either, and there are all these people who are hot, but do I want to like, I don't know, kiss them or like suck their dick or whatever? I don't know. I've tried, and I've tried, and I've tried, and I _don't know_. I'm going mental. I can't fucking sleep. The only person I fancy is you, and I keep fucking that up." His voice caught at the end, and Liam couldn't bear to see him cry again, he just couldn't. 

He stepped a little closer, so that his chest was flush with Louis' back, and slid his arm around Louis' waist. "You're not going mental," he said, hooking his chin over Louis' shoulder, and anchoring him close with an arm around his chest. "We'll figure this out, I promise."

Louis shook his head. "Why are you even being nice to me? I've been such a shit. I keep trying not to be, but I can't make it stop. I can't make any of it stop."

"I'm being nice to you because you're my best friend," Liam told him. There was more to it than that; he was mostly in love with him too, but it might not be helpful at this point to actually tell Louis that. "And because you're in a mess, and I want you to be all right."

"I fancy you so much," Louis said, after a minute. "I fancy you more than I've ever fancied anyone. For ages I thought thinking you were well fit was just like, normal. Because you are, right? And I thought anyone with a brain could see that, and was probably thinking the same thing. Except it turns out not everyone thinks like that."

Liam kept on hugging him. "I think it's all right that you're confused. I don't think you have to like, know everything right now, you know? You don't have to be the same as me, and just know. But you have to stop being a dick, and you have to stop treating me like this. Because I don't want to be anyone's secret, and it's like that's all you wanted me to be. If the only way you want me is to be something we keep secret, then we can't do this. But we can still be friends. I don't want to lose you as a friend. Not ever, okay? You're my best friend."

Louis didn't say anything to that, but Liam could feel him trembling. He hugged him harder, because it felt like he was the only thing keeping Louis from shattering into pieces right in front of him. 

"I'm so tired, and I'm so scared of fucking us up. I don't know what to say to you. I don't know how to make any of this all right. What am I supposed to say?"

Liam shrugged. "I don't know either."

"I can't believe I ran out in front of everyone; they're all going to think I've gone proper crazy."

"Tell them you felt sick. They'll believe that, especially if you go home poorly now."

Louis shifted in Liam's arms, turning around so that he could wrap his arms around Liam and hold on, burying his face in Liam's neck. 

Liam swallowed, and tried not to do anything stupid, like give in and kiss him. Louis was fucked up enough as it was, without him adding to it. He was a bit frightened by how much of a mess Louis was in, if he was honest; he had no idea what to say to make it all better. "Maybe you really should go home, Lou. Get out of here for a bit. I'll tell everyone you're poorly."

Louis nodded, but didn't pull away. "I'm really, really sorry," he said after a while. "I am so sorry for everything. When Harry said I'd made you cry, I wanted to throw up."

Liam had spent so much of the last couple of weeks confused and upset and hurt and bewildered by his feelings for Louis. Half the time he'd barely known whether he was coming or going, and he had a pretty firm understanding of who it was he wanted to be kissing. He couldn't really imagine what it must have been like for Louis, not being able to figure out who he was. "It's okay," he said finally, not sure what he was supposed to be saying to make this all right. "It'll be okay."

Louis pulled away at that. "My bag's in the common room."

"I'll get it for you, if you want. So you don't have to see everyone after you've been crying."

Louis looked down at the floor, flushing pink. "I haven't—"

Liam rolled his eyes. "I'll be back in a minute. Don't go anywhere." He wasn't sure he could trust Louis not to run away from him the moment his back was turned. "It'll be all right, you know."

He didn't really know if he was telling the truth or not.

**FOURTEEN.**

**Louis.**

Louis forgot his mum didn't work on Wednesday afternoons until she walked in at lunchtime and found him on the sofa in a pair of old tracky bottoms and a faded t-shirt of hers with Paddington Bear on the front, hugging a cushion and watching the telly.

"Louis," she said, taking off her coat. "I didn't expect to see you."

He shrugged. "Didn't feel well. Came home from school."

"Aren't they supposed to call me if you go home? Just because you're in the sixth form now doesn't mean that you can just walk out of lessons."

"I didn't stay for registration," he said, drawing his knee up to his chin. He was watching _Neighbours_ , even though he hated it. It reminded him of Liam. "No one even knew I was there."

She toed off her shoes, and put her handbag down on the side of the armchair. "What's wrong, love? You weren't poorly when you left this morning. Although you have looked a bit peaky recently."

He shrugged again. He didn't have the right words to talk about any of this. 

"Are you feeling sick, or is it a cold, or do I have to phone the doctor? Give me a clue, Louis." She sat down next to him and felt his forehead. 

"It's nothing, okay."

"Nothing wouldn't be a good enough reason for missing school."

"I feel better. It was a thing. My head hurt. I felt sick."

"But you don't anymore?" His mum didn't exactly look like she believed him. Good reason for that. "You don't look well."

"I'm just really tired. I didn't feel well, so I came home. It's not a big deal. Don't make it into a thing. It's fine, okay?"

She shook her head. "Not fine, and not okay. I'm going to put the kettle on. Have you had any lunch?"

"No." He hugged the cushion a bit closer. 

"If you're suddenly well again, you can come and help make us both a sandwich whilst I make some tea." She didn't take no for an answer, already standing up and heading for the kitchen. Louis followed more slowly, trying not to be mad at his mum for asking questions. 

He was halfway through making them both a ham sandwich when she spoke again. 

"I know, um. Look, I've seen that you haven't been yourself these last couple of weeks."

"I'm fine."

"Well, I'm not sure you are. And I've been thinking a bit, and I, um, it's about what you were looking up on the computer."

Gay characters in soaps. "It was for general studies," he said quickly. 

"I know. But I just wanted you to know, that if you weren't looking it up for general studies—or if you ever have to look it up again, and it isn't for school—that you can come and talk to me about it. About anything, actually. You can talk to me about anything, and you don't ever have to be scared about it, and you don't ever have to be scared about how I might react. That's what I wanted to say."

"It was for a lesson," Louis stared down at the breadboard, and blinked away the threat of tears. If he wasn't so tired, he wouldn't want to cry so much, he was sure. "I'm not—it's nothing."

"I know you were asking me about your uncle, and about your dad, and I want to make sure that you know that whatever you do, or don't do, or whatever you are, or aren't, we're all—" she stopped, and took the teabags out of the mugs, putting them down on the little spotty teabag rest by the kettle. "You shouldn't worry about other people. That's what I wanted to make sure you knew. You don't ever have to be scared of your family."

Louis tried to hide the way his hands were shaking as he put their sandwiches onto two plates. "Thanks for the advice, Mum, but it's totally unnecessary. I'm one hundred per cent straight, and everything's great, and general studies is still a doss subject that's totally pointless. And I'm going upstairs."

"Fine," his mum said. "Just so long as you remember what I've said. Louis! Don't you want your tea?"

He ducked back across the kitchen, not making eye contact, and grabbed his mug of tea. 

He really didn't know why everything at the moment just made him want to cry.

\--//--

He spent the rest of the day in his bedroom with his door shut, watching crap TV on the stupid, old telly that he'd rescued from next door's caravan when they were towing it away for scrap. It didn't have a remote, and barely worked, even with the Freeview box he'd had to balance precariously on top of his drawers just to get a signal. His sisters came in from school, and one of them even knocked on his door to come and play with them, but he told them to get lost.

There was a fairly high chance he was going to get bollocked for that later on, when his mum found out. 

His eyes felt tired and gritty, and his shoulders ached, and he wanted to sleep, but every time he put his head down on the pillow his brain just buzzed into overdrive and got messy. So he stared at the telly instead, and pushed his sandwich around the plate, and tried not to think too much about how safe he'd felt in Liam's arms earlier. He really hated how Liam made him feel like that. It was such a weird feeling, and such a strange thing to _want_ , but he couldn't help it. He wanted Liam to wrap his arms around him and hug him, hard, and he knew—objectively—that boys shouldn't want to feel like that, but it didn't stop him from craving it. 

"Tea's ready," Mum said, knocking on his door a while later and pushing it open. "Are you coming down?"

"Not hungry," he lied. 

"I'm worried about you. It's not like you to be off your food."

"I'm just tired." He could stay here on his bed watching telly for days. That would be okay. Everything would just get easier after a while; it had to. It couldn't keep getting harder. 

"I'll put some on a plate for you. Keep it warm. Why don't you come down in a bit? The girls have asked if they can watch Cinderella, so you could come and help me in the kitchen. I could do with a bit of help."

He shrugged a shoulder. "Suppose." Staying here and waiting for the world to pass him by sounded more like the kind of plan he was interested in at the moment, but whatever. 

His mum would want to talk to him if they went into the kitchen, and Louis really, really didn't want to talk. The only thing he knew for certain was that he fancied Liam; he didn't think that was the right way to kickstart a conversation with his mum. 

"I don't think I mentioned that that wasn't something you could opt in or out of, Louis." She folded her arms. "You don't skip school without a good reason, and you don't miss lessons for being tired, and you don't get to hide up here all day by yourself because you want to avoid talking to me. I'm not having it."

He looked down at his lap, and nodded. "All right."

"Come and help me in the kitchen."

"Can I have a beer?"

She looked at him. "Eat your dinner first, then we'll see."

\--//--

His mum didn't push him to talk until after they'd finished the washing up, and the remains of the shepherd's pie was under cling film in the fridge. She checked on the girls to make sure they weren't on some kind of silent rampage in the living room, and then came back into the kitchen and opened the back door, motioning Louis out onto the patio.

She followed him out with a can of beer and two glasses. 

"Are you bribing me with alcohol?" Louis asked, determined to pretend that everything was all right. 

"If you ever tell anyone about me using this as a bribe, there will be trouble. This is strictly a one-off. If you'd like, you could take it as an indication of just how worried I am about you. If you'd like."

Louis poured the can out into two glasses, and took the larger one for himself. "There's nothing wrong."

"I would like to disagree with that, since you're well aware that if they put me on Mastermind, my specialist subject would be my kids." She waved at the girls through the living room window. The twins were playing with their My Little Ponies in front of the TV, and Lottie was reading a book in the corner. Fizzy was standing by the window and watching them. "And I think what's wrong with you has something to do with what I saw you looking up on the computer."

"Yeah," he said, still not meeting her eyes. "You've sprung me. I want to be a soap actor when I'm finished at school."

"If I asked Liam, or Harry, or Zayn, or Niall if they thought you were all right, what do you think they'd say?"

"They'd say to keep your nose out of my business." He went cold at the idea of his mum nosing about and questioning his friends. God. 

"I'm going to say this again, because I don't think you were really listening earlier—"

"I was listening."

"I don't think you really heard me, though. Not really. It's okay if you think you might be gay, Louis. You don't need to be scared about telling me."

"I'm not gay," he said quickly, and how many times had he said that recently? He couldn't even count. Every time he said it, something in his life went just that little bit more wrong. He stared down at his lap. "I'm _not_."

"It's all right if you are. It's all right, whatever you are. Whatever you have to tell me, it's going to be all right."

"It's just—" his voice caught. He hadn't ever wanted to cry this much before. "It's not gay if it's just one boy, is it? If it's just Liam, then that doesn't make me gay. If I just love Liam."

"Oh. Oh, Louis." 

"Don't you hate me now?" Louis tried to laugh, but he couldn't look up, and he couldn't meet her eyes, just in case it was true.

"I could never, ever hate you. Not ever. Did you really think I could? Because—I couldn't." 

He shrugged his shoulders, and passed his beer from one hand to the other. He didn't feel like drinking it. "Dunno." 

"These, um. These feelings for Liam. Does he know?"

Louis nodded, but still didn't look up. He felt like he was going to be sick. 

"And—is he being all right with you? He's not being awful about it?"

"Liam couldn't be awful about anything, not even if he tried. I'm the one being awful to him."

"I don't believe that," his mum said. 

Louis really did laugh at that, but his voice caught in the middle, and he tried to disguise a sob as just a cough. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "What if I really am gay, Mum? What if it isn't just Liam?"

Mum leaned over and took the glass of beer out of Louis' hand. She crouched down next to him, and smoothed his hair away from his forehead. Louis' chest felt like it was going to explode from trying to keep it all inside. "It doesn't matter who you are, Louis. It doesn't matter if you fancy boys, or girls, or both, or anything or anybody else. You're a part of this family, and that's where you're going to stay, all right? So stop this worrying about us. Is this what's been making you poorly? All this worrying?"

Louis knew that if he made one sound, that would be it. He'd start to cry and he wouldn't be able to stop. He shrugged a shoulder instead. 

"Louis," Mum said. "Oh, you silly boy. Why were you worrying about us? Is this what the questions about Uncle Steve and your dad were about? Your dad would be so upset if he knew he'd caused you all this worry."

"Uncle Steve, though." His throat was tight. 

"Your Uncle Steve and me are going to have a bit of a talk, I think. Don't you worry about him. I'll talk his ear off, come to think about it."

"I don't think I want to be gay," Louis said, after a while of staring down at his hands. He couldn't tell if they were shaking or not. Trying not to cry was making him feel a bit light-headed. "Or bisexual. I don't want to be either of them. I've tried so hard not to be."

"What's so wrong with being gay, sweetheart? Or bisexual?" His mum slid her hand over his. "What's got you this worried?"

"You have to come out all the time, forever. You have to tell everyone."

"You're a brave boy. You've done it once already. The hardest time's the first time, it'll all be easier from here on in. And you'll have us."

Louis swallowed. "Have I done it once already, though?"

His mum squeezed his hand, and looked him in the eye. "I think so. Don't you?"

It took Louis a long time to say _yes_.

\--//--

He didn't go to school on Thursday, choosing to spend his day on the sofa watching crap daytime telly instead. His mum didn't push it, for once.

"This is it, though," she said as she left for work. "One day, and that's it. And only because you look exhausted. Try and nap, all right? There's enough in the fridge for a salad sandwich for your lunch, and I'll be back after work. Make a start on tea later, will you?" She leaned in and kissed his forehead, pinching his cheek. "I love you, kid."

Louis' eyes smarted. "Me too," he said, looking down at his knees. "I love you too."

"Get some sleep, you look like you haven't been to bed in a week."

Louis felt like it, too. It had taken him ages to get to sleep last night, going over and over and over things in his head. He'd tried saying, _I'm gay_ , out loud, but it still didn't feel like he was talking about himself. It felt like he was looking through a window at himself, and talking about that guy instead. He tried saying, _I'm bisexual_ , but that didn't feel like him either.

At the same time, neither of them felt like a lie. 

That was the problem.

He watched the end of Lorraine, and then sat through _my mum slept with my boyfriend...and she won't give him back!_ on Jeremy Kyle. Were the guys hot? Did he want to sleep with them? He didn't want to sleep with the girls, that was for sure, although half of them were two-timing mothers, and the others were screaming at each other on stage, so it probably wasn't representative. He stayed with itv after, for This Morning, and tried to look objectively at Holly Willoughby's breasts. They were nice, and she was hot—that at least was indisputable—but if the opportunity presented itself, would he want to sleep with her? His heart said _no,_ but his head said _maybe_. 

But Holly Willoughby had never been his type anyway. Maybe he'd never had a type. 

Then they welcomed Blue onto the set to talk about their new album, and Duncan James smiled at the camera, and suddenly, Louis knew without a shadow of a doubt that he'd kiss _him_. And there it was—his heart and his head both saying _yes_ , and to a bloke. He still didn't know if it meant that he wouldn't ever fancy another girl, or even if he still fancied girls now, but he knew one thing: he was at least bisexual, and he really liked blokes. 

He turned the TV off and went upstairs to try and get some sleep. 

_Gay,_ he thought. _Or bisexual?_ He still didn't have a definite answer, but it at least felt like he was getting closer. It was a start, and he'd take that.

\--//--

When the doorbell rang at about half past two, Louis was in the kitchen making a sandwich. He'd slept through lunchtime, and was still bleary-eyed and half asleep, but at least the kettle was boiling and soon there would be tea. Everything was better with tea.

He went to see who it was, pulling his t-shirt on over his head as he went.

It was Liam, standing awkwardly on his doorstep and looking like this was the latest in a series of crap life choices that Louis was responsible for.

"Um," Louis managed. "Hi."

"Hi," Liam said. "I came to see how you were. You look—" he trailed off.

"This is the point where you say I look a hundred times better than I did yesterday," Louis stepped back to let Liam in, and then stood in his hall feeling uncomfortable in his shorts and t-shirt.

"I was going to say half asleep," Liam motioned towards the living room, a _can I go through_ kind of a thing. "But you also look better than yesterday."

"Wasn't difficult. I was a wreck yesterday. Do you want tea?" Louis hadn't wanted to cry for a whole four or five hours now; it was a positive change from the past few weeks. 

"If you're making it."

"Kettle's already boiling. Come through. Are you hungry? I slept through lunch, so I'm just making me a sandwich."

"I'm all right, thanks." Liam was still being a bit awkward, which was probably acceptable considering that Louis had been going slightly mental for weeks now. He sat down on the stool by the counter. "You, um. You seem happier."

Louis got a couple of mugs out of the cupboard, a Tetley tea folk one for Liam, and a Take That tour one that belonged to his mum for him. "I've slept, for a start." He dumped water over the teabags in the mugs and rested his elbows on the countertop. "And I realised I'd have sex with Duncan from Blue."

Liam's brow furrowed in confusion. "Oh. All right?"

"No, it's a good thing. Mum told me she loved me and everything last night, and that coming out for the first time was probably going to be the hardest time, but that that was over and done with now, but I still didn't _know,_ you know? I mean, I know how I feel about _you_ , but like, where does that fit in with everything else in my head? Was it just you? Like, are you going to decide you want nothing to do with me, and go off and get a well fit boyfriend that I'm going to want to punch, and then eventually when the world ends I'll get over you, and then all I'm going to want to do is get a hot girlfriend? I didn't know, at least not for sure. And then I was looking at Holly Willoughby this morning, and the thing is, I _know_ she's hot, but I still don't want to do her. And that's like, one more point in the not bi column, right? And then Duncan from Blue comes on, and I realised I would totally do _him_ , and—I don't know, okay. I just don't know for certain if I don't like girls, but I do know for certain that I like boys. I know that now. For certain."

"Um. You came out to your mum?"

Louis rolled his eyes. "That was what you got from that?"

"There was a lot of talking, and it went quite fast. And kind of a lot of it didn't make sense. Are you sure you're all right? You're still being a bit mental."

"Huh." Louis scooped out the teabags and dumped them on the side. "Pass us the milk, will you?"

Liam handed over the milk from the fridge, and Louis poured it into the cups. 

"You know I've wanted to cry for like, three weeks, right? And it's been shit?"

Liam nodded. "Yeah."

Louis pushed one of the mugs towards Liam. "I don't want to cry. Right now, I don't want to cry."

"Bravo?"

Louis managed a smile. "The thing is, though." He opened his mouth, but couldn't think of how to say what he wanted to say. How could he say, _I'm not ready yet_ , without sounding like a total fucking dick? He still didn't have the words. 

"You're a bit manic," Liam pointed out. 

"Yeah, I know." He swallowed. "There's still such a lot going on in my head, and like—it's getting clearer. I'm getting there. But I'm not there yet, you know?"

"I know," Liam said. "I just came to see if you were okay. I was worried, after yesterday. I can go if you want me to."

"No," Louis shook his head. Liam was his best friend, and he might have fucked everything up, but he _missed_ him. He just wanted his friend back, no complications, just for a bit. Was it so wrong to want that? He could figure out the inside of his head later. Just a couple of hours, that was all he was asking for. "Don't go. Just, I don't know. Can we just not talk about stuff for a while?"

"We could watch a DVD."

"All right. So long as I get to pick."

Liam rolled his eyes at that, but he didn't say no, which was good. Louis had missed him. It was one thing having a massive sexuality crisis and accidentally having sex round the back of the cinema and pretending it hadn't happened. It was another, not talking to your best friend. 

"Best friend time, all right?" Louis grabbed a packet of digestives from the cupboard, and led the way into the living room, sandwich in his other hand.

"Yeah," Liam said, following him in with their cups of tea. 

Louis knelt down in front of the TV and fiddled with the DVD player. It was a little bit broken, and the tray didn't open when you pushed the button on the remote. He poked at it fruitlessly, but it didn't give way and open. He pressed play instead, and waited to see what his sisters had been watching last. He hoped it wasn't that stupid Barbie Nutcracker DVD Mum had got at the charity shop. 

He sat down on the sofa, and bumped his knee into Liam's as the DVD menu started to load. "Thanks for coming over. For checking on me." He grabbed a cushion for something to do, and rested his plate on it. He still wanted to kiss Liam. He just wished he could turn it off for five seconds. 

Liam smiled at him, and Louis' stomach did a swoopy, twisty kind of a thing. "I was worried about you. I hated seeing you so messed up."

The _Despicable Me_ menu started to play on the TV. Louis focused on his sandwich. "I was so jealous of you, you know. For just—knowing. Why couldn't I just know if I was gay or not? I've fancied you for months, and I still can't figure it out."

Liam startled at that. "For months? You've fancied me for months?"

Louis shrugged. "I suppose." Liam's smile dropped a bit, and Louis swallowed. "I didn't want to call it that, all right, but yes. I've been thinking you've been well fit for like—months. I've fancied you for ages. I just pretended I didn't. I pretended it was totally normal to want that from your best friend." His hands were sweating. Was it hot in here? It felt stifling. Maybe he should open a window.

"Oh." Liam blushed.

Louis couldn't help but like making him look like that. He liked the way his stomach was feeling too; fluttery and anticipatory. It was scary, but not in the chest-tightening, hurts-to-breathe way he'd got used to over the last couple of weeks. Oh fuck, he'd just told Liam how much he liked him. He ducked his head, and tried to quell the rising panic in his chest. He desperately didn't want to get to the stage where it hurt to breathe again. He wanted _that_ to be in the past, at least.

"I like you back, you know."

"I'm not ready," Louis blurted. "I want to be, I want to be _so much_ , but I'm not. I am so sorry for messing you around. For everything. For pretending you weren't who I wanted to be with. For, like, not talking to you. For being a coward. For all of that, and for upsetting you and being a dick. I am actually really sorry. But I'm not ready to be like you and Harry, and come out. I don't want to be scared. I hate being this ashamed of how I feel, I hate it, but I can't make it go away."

He wished he could just say he was at least bisexual and be done with it, but he wanted to be sure. He wanted to be sure, and not scared anymore, and _happy_. He missed being happy. God, why couldn't he just be better?

The hurt he could see Liam trying to hide was worse than anything else. "That's fine." His lie was obvious. "I'm not in a rush."

Louis ducked his head. The film had started playing in the background. "I'm really sorry. You have no idea how much I wish I could just—I don't know. Walk up to you in public and snog the face off of you." 

"Sexy."

Louis tried to smile. "I like you so much, you have no idea. I like you more than anyone. I haven't thought about anything but kissing you in weeks."

"It's pretty easy, you know. You just—you can kiss me. You just do it."

"And then I run away afterwards. I promised Harry I wouldn't fuck you up any more, and I'm keeping that." If there was one thing he could do right in all of this, it was not fuck Liam up any more than he already had. Liam was way too good for him. "You deserve someone who doesn't run away. You deserve someone who's actually fucking brave, you know?"

Liam looked like he might cry. "What if I just want you?"

"You shouldn't," Louis said. "Because I'm crap, and I've hurt you so much, and I hate myself for it, because you're the best person in the world." _And I love you_ , he thought. He would never be able to say that. "I wish I knew who I was. I've been trying and trying to figure it out, and apart from you, I still don't know for sure."

"Apart from me and Duncan from Blue."

"He's hot," Louis was trying to force his best smile, but it wouldn't come. 

"So you at least know you fancy blokes, plural."

"Yeah," Louis said. "At least I know that."

"Hey," Liam leaned over and touched his elbow. His smile looked strained. "It's fine. It's okay. You get to figure this out in your own time, you know."

"If I don't hurry up, you won't be waiting though, will you?" He didn't want to make eye contact.

Liam shrugged. "Probably not forever, no. But it isn't like there's anyone else I've got my eye on. I don't think you need to worry I'm going to go off and shag half the school, or anything."

Louis rubbed at his forehead with his fingertips. "Fuck. I wish I could just be as brave as you and Harry. I wish I just knew what I was."

"I don't really think it's about being brave," Liam said. His hand was just _there_ , on the sofa cushion, where Louis could reach out and touch it, if only he had the nerve. Louis twitched. "Not if you haven't figured shit out yet. I think you should probably stop beating yourself up for it all, too. I mean, not the bits where you were crap to me. Don't do that again. But the bits where you're being really mean to yourself are probably a bit rubbish. I don't think it's the rule that you have to fit exactly into one of these boxes you're trying to stuff yourself in."

"Isn't it?" Louis kept looking at Liam's hand. He really, really wanted to be able reach out and take it. 

It didn't matter how much he wanted it, though, if he couldn't actually make his hand move. 

"Don't think so. I think you can just be you, and fuck everyone who tries to make you pick. Seriously. Fuck them. You're perfect just as you are."

"I'm not," Louis said. "I've been awful to you."

Liam shrugged. "Apart from that. Inside, though. Who you are and who you want to kiss. You don't need to feel bad about that. That part of you's perfect."

"I'm trying," Louis said softly, after a while. He blinked a few times. On the TV, Gru was using his freeze ray. Louis felt like someone had used one on him. He wanted to move, to break free, to figure out who he was and just _be it_. He pushed the remains of his sandwich away.

"I know," Liam said. "That's why I'm still here. Let's just watch the film, all right?"

Louis nodded after a while. Best friend time, that's what he needed. Things to be normal, just for a bit.

\--//--

"How was your day?" Mum asked, once the twins had had their baths and were in bed, and Fizzy and Lottie were having a war of words in the dining room about who was reading which library book next. They thundered up the stairs, still bickering.

Louis waited until he heard their bedroom door close, and shrugged. "All right. Liam came over earlier."

"Oh yeah?" Mum raised an eyebrow, and shifted the cushions on the sofa. "And what did he have to say for himself?"

" _Mum_."

"Okay, I was just asking. Has your headache gone?"

"What do you think Dad would say if I told him?"

"Told him what?" Mum asked carefully. "And which dad are we talking about? Your dad-dad, or your dad?"

"Not my biological dad, I couldn't give a shit about what he thinks." His biological dad was virtually missing from his life, and this didn't feel like a reason to change that. "No, I was talking about Dad. And what he'd say if I—um—if I came out to him."

"Do you want to?"

Louis shook his head. Just the thought of it was making his chest feel tight. "I don't want to tell anyone. But if I did. If I knew what I was. Or if I was brave. One of those things."

"Oh, baby. You _are_ brave."

He shrugged. He wasn't; he knew that. "I'm sorry. I know how much you've got on your plate already. I didn't want to give you anything else to worry about. I tried to keep it a secret."

His mum let out a breath. "Is that what you've been thinking? That I haven't got time for you? Because I will always, always make time for you. You don't ever have to go through something like this alone. Not ever, do you understand?"

"I know you'll make time for me." Louis tried to pick his words carefully, but it was hard. He kept looking down at his lap. "I don't want you to _have_ to make time for me. Like—I know how stupid this is, all right? I know how you could do without this, and I've tried to make it go away. I've tried and I've tried, but I can't stop feeling this, even though I've been trying. And I know this is going to make things harder between you and Dad, because he's not going to want this, and he probably won't want to see me anymore, and I'm going to try and not make that into a big thing, all right? It's not going to make any more work for you, I promise. That's what I wanted to make sure you knew. I know things are hard, but I'm not going to make them harder. I promise. I'm going to fix this." 

"Oh god," Mum said, and Louis tried to school his face into something calm and collected and adult so that he could look up and face her, even though he just kept making things harder for their family. As if things weren't hard enough with Dad gone, and Mum and Louis trying to keep all the threads of their lives together. "Is that what you honestly think I want?"

Louis looked up at that. His mum was crying. "Mum—"

"Is that what you've been trying to do, all this time? Oh god, I didn't even notice. You're a _kid_ , Lou. What sort of mother am I? At what point did I forget to make sure you knew that you could be as gay as you fucking wanted, and we would love you anyway? At what point?"

Louis had never heard his mum say _fuck_ before. He knew he was crying too. He'd messed up again. Every time he tried to make it better, he messed it all up _again_. "Mum—"

She grabbed his hand. "You are my son, Louis, and I love you very, very much indeed. I don't care if you are gay, or straight, or bisexual, or anything else at all that you can think of. I will love you, and your sisters will love you, and your _dad_ will love you. Your dads will love you, even if one of them doesn't realise how utterly brilliant you are. He will wake up one day, and he will regret that he missed out on getting to know you, and that is on him, and it is never, ever, ever on you, do you understand? 

"If you have feelings for Liam, then that is more than all right. It's so far past all right it's in the _great_ column, okay? If you want to bring a boyfriend—or boyfriends and girlfriends, plural, if that's what you end up wanting—if you want to bring them home, then every single one of us will accept him. Or her. Or _them_. If we end up living in the future, and Star Trek comes to life, you can bring home green aliens, and we will ask them if they want to stay for pudding. And we'll get your dad to come over and meet them too, and he'll shake their hand. Do you understand me? Because I think somewhere along the line I've messed up, because I don't think you did know any of this, and I think I've made this so much worse for you, and I'm _sorry_. I'm sorry, Lou."

"You didn't mess up," Louis managed. 

"I did, if you weren't one hundred per cent convinced of any of that," she said, and pulled him into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and Louis cried so much he didn't think he'd be able to breathe at the end of it, and it felt like something in his chest had finally, finally unlocked. He couldn't stop all of the feelings he'd been keeping inside from tumbling out, one after the other, like a painful, desperate wall inside of him collapsing. 

Afterwards, he curled into her side, and used up half a box of tissues wiping his eyes and blowing his nose. "I don't think I fancy girls, Mum."

"I know, baby," she said, stroking his hair. "And that's all right."

He closed his eyes tight, and didn't let go.

\--//--

In the morning, his mum made sandwiches for him to take into school for lunch, and wrapped them up in cling film and put them in a bag with a packet of crisps and an apple. She kissed the top of his head, and made him a cup of tea, and passed him the paracetamol for his headache.

"How you doing this morning, kid?"

Louis shrugged, and pushed his Shreddies around his cereal bowl. He'd cried so much last night he still had the aching head to prove it. "Don't want to go to school."

Mum sighed. "I know. But you can't stay off school forever."

He shrugged again, hoping it would convey just how scared he was without him having to say it. Around him, Fizzy and Lottie and Daisy and Phoebe kept on talking, and eating their breakfast like everything was the same as always. They didn't have to face their friends knowing they were gay, and that everything he'd dreamed about for his future was suddenly different. 

"Why don't you text one of your friends? See if one of them wants to walk to school?"

"Mum." He stood up and went into the kitchen with his half-finished bowl of cereal, dumping it on the side. The kitchen was chaotic, just like always. The number of packed lunches that had to be made every day was ridiculous, for a start. No wonder they just got ham sandwiches. He took his lunch and tried to shove it into his rucksack. 

"I'm just saying, it might be nice. I know you're worried."

"I don't want to tell anyone yet. I just want a couple of days where it's just me. I want to get used to it. Get used to being gay." _Gay_. He still wasn't used to it. Would he ever be? 

"Okay. You don't have to tell anyone just yet. It can just be you and me. We'll have a proper chat over the weekend, how about that?"

He nodded. "All right. Suppose."

"Me and you have got a lot to talk about, I think. And I'm going to talk to your dad, too."

Louis wasn't sure he agreed with that. It really did feel like he was commandeering his mum's time, which would be better spent on other things, but he wasn't going to pretend that it hadn't felt good to finally offload on her last night. And—tiredness and crying jag headache aside—finally getting to let it all out had been a relief. His chest didn't feel so tight this morning, even if he was dreading going back to school. He hadn't seen anyone but Liam since running out of the common room on Wednesday morning, and he was half-convinced everyone was going to think he was proper mental for that. He tried to zip his bag shut, but the crisp packet kept getting stuck in the zip. 

"Here, let me," Mum said, reaching past him for his bag. She put it down on the counter, zipping it closed. "I know it's hard, love. I know your head's in a bit of a mess, but doesn't it feel better now it's all out in the open?"

"Dunno. Suppose."

"Well, then." She smiled at him. "Go to school, love. See your friends. We'll make Toad in the Hole for tea, how about that?"

"With gravy?"

"Obviously. Lashings."

She saw him off at the door, and only the fact that she watched him walk up the street to the main road stopped him from turning round and going back upstairs and hiding for another day.

\--//--

"You still look dog rough," Niall said, making a space for him on the bench when he got to the common room. "You're not going to puke, are you?"

"Nah," Louis tried to smile, but he was exhausted. Pretending to be okay was tiring. "Much better than I was, though."

Across the table, Liam smiled at him. "Good to see you back, Lou."

Louis nodded, and concentrated on smiling back. "Thanks." In his head, he was singing _gay gay gay gay gay gay_ to the tune of The Final Countdown. It almost fitted.

"Just don't vom," Zayn told him, elbowing him in the side. "Can I copy your homework? We need it for that revision class thing we're doing."

"Haven't done it." Exams were at least three weeks away. He had plenty of time to revise.

Zayn rolled his eyes. "If you do the second half and I do the first half, we can copy and get it done in time for first lesson."

Louis wasn't sure his brain was in gear for lessons yet, but that wasn't going to stop him getting yelled at for not handing in his homework. "All right." 

_Fake it until you make it_ , that's what his mum had said. He imagined saying _I like boys_ out loud. It didn't seem quite as terrifying as it used to do. Progress? Maybe. 

Under the table, Liam's foot bumped into his, and Louis shot him a glance.

"You all right?" Liam asked. 

"Yeah," Louis said. "Getting there." 

For the first time, it didn't feel like a lie.

\--//--

"You sure you're all right?" Liam asked, at lunchtime. Everyone else was playing footy on the top playground, but Louis was sitting on the grass by the fence, half-heartedly eating a Calippo. He held it out for Liam to have a lick of, and then blushed a bit as Liam stuck his tongue out to do just that. "You're not playing footy."

Louis wrapped an arm around his knees. "I'm all right," he said, and it wasn't a lie. "I am, actually. I mean, I'm still a bit of a head case, but I really am sorting myself out."

Liam dumped his books on the grass. It was warm out, and Liam was the only one of them who was actually getting down to doing any revision. Exams really were just around the corner. "Really?"

"Really. Cried all over my mum last night." He laughed. "Actually, I'm glad you didn't see it, you would have thought I was proper mental. Couldn't breathe or anything. Afterwards I was really snotty."

"Lou—"

"No, seriously. You don't need to look at me like I might break. I felt better afterwards. Me and Mum have sorted some stuff out. I've sorted some stuff out. Just—" he shrugged. "Give me a few days, okay? I'm getting there, I promise."

"Are you sure? You don't need to talk, or anything? Cos I can listen. I'm good at that."

"No." Liam's hand was just there, on the grass in between them both. "Seriously. I know that I've—that things—that I've been a dick, and that you've been worried about me. And you were right, about both of those things, because I was really messed up. And I still am, but I think I'm fixing shit? I'm sorting stuff out, and I just need to—I just need to sort my head out. For just a couple of days."

"Do you want me to go?" Liam wasn't looking at him, watching the others at the opposite side of the playground, Jesy with her arms in the air, Perrie grabbing her round the waist, Leigh-Anne dancing in a circle, arms wrapped round Eleanor's shoulders. Danielle was doing a cartwheel. The girls had scored, then. 

Louis looked down at Liam's hand. _You can kiss me. You just—do it._ He wasn't up to that, yet. His fingers twitched, the juice from his melting ice lolly running down the wrapper to his thumb. He swapped the Calippo to his other hand, and put his hand down in the grass next to Liam's. His little finger was brushing Liam's, and Louis' heart was beating fit to burst. 

Liam swallowed, his throat working. He didn't look down between them, but he didn't move his hand away either. 

Louis let out a long breath. "I'm going in," he said, standing up. He could still hear his heartbeat, loud and clear in his ears. "Got to make a start on my revision."

"Okay." Liam pulled his knees up to his chest. "I'm just going to—I'm going to work out here."

"I'll see you, all right?"

"Yeah," Liam said, and Louis dumped the sticky remains of his ice lolly in the bin by the steps on his way back. 

He could do this. He really could. It was going to get easier.

\--//--

"How was school, love?"

Louis was trying to herd his sisters into the house. Picking them up from school by himself was like trying to wrangle puppies. Occasionally very annoying puppies. The only way he'd got Daisy to stop crying because she wasn't taking the class hamster home for the weekend was by pretending to be a pony so that she'd climb onto his back. Then Phoebe cried because _she_ wanted a go on his back, and then he looked around and Fizzy was gone, and they'd only located her five minutes later, trying to feed Starburst to the school chickens. He'd had to apologise to the school caretaker, and then Lottie remembered she'd forgotten her P.E. kit, so by then they were twenty-five minutes late leaving the school grounds, and Louis was _still gay_. 

"Still gay, Mum."

"Glad to hear it. I went to the book shop at lunchtime, got us some things I thought we could read. They're on your bed."

"Oh god, is this going to be embarrassing?"

"Only if you let it be, sweetheart. No, Phoebs. Louis has some reading to do, he can't play princesses with you."

"But I want to rescue him on my dragon," Phoebe whined. 

"I'm going upstairs," Louis said, dumping his stuff on the floor by the door. He took the stairs two at a time. In a Waterstones bag in the middle of his bed were copies of _OMG My Son is Gay, My Child is Gay: How Parents React_ , _So What if I'm Gay_ , and _I'm a Gay Teenager_. 

Oh, and _Sex Explained: A Real and Relevant Guide to Sex, Relationships and You._

It was okay; he'd die of embarrassment later. 

"You can't afford this," he shouted down the stairs. "Take them back, the receipt's in the bag."

His mum appeared at the bottom of the stairs. "Who's the adult in this relationship? Me. Let me be responsible for what we can and can't afford for once, Lou."

"But Mum—"

"Don't _but mum_ me, Louis." She sighed, and put her hands on her hips. Daisy was trying to do a forward roll down the hall and was yelling _watch me, watch me_. Lottie was asking questions about the Vikings. "Everything you're feeling, and everything you want, is completely normal, Lou. I want you to know that, and I want as many people to tell you that as I can find, so go back into your room and read the books."

He knew he was turning red. "Mum—"

"Would you rather we had a nice chat about which men we both fancy? Because we can do that instead, if you'd like. Yes, Daisy, that's brilliant. Excellent forward roll. No, Lottie, you can't watch _How to Train Your Dragon_ instead of doing your history homework. They're not actual Vikings. Fizzy, if you've got your hand in the biscuit tin there will be trouble. No, you can't have a pink wafer. Wouldn't you rather have an apple?"

Louis made a disgruntled kind of a noise and went back into his bedroom to read the bloody books. 

His mum came up later with a cup of tea and half an apple cut into slices. "This is for you," she said, plonking it down on his bedside table. "Wouldn't you like to open a window in here? It smells a bit like teenage boy."

"Funny, that."

"Cheeky. Seriously, open a window. Have you got to the age where you stop thinking Lynx is a good thing to smell of, yet? That day can't come soon enough." She didn't open the window for him. Louis had always liked that she didn't barge into his room and tidy it up behind his back. "How are the books?"

"Did you know that the confusion I'm feeling right now is something that hundreds and hundreds of other teenagers have felt too?"

"Is that comforting, or patronising?" She sat down on the end of his bed. 

"Both, I think."

"Chuck that book to one side then. Try another one."

"It cost £9.99."

"Well then, it'll be a pretty pricey paperweight." Mum leaned over and touched his shoulder. "Stop worrying about the money. I couldn't have coped without you since your dad left, Louis, and don't think I'm not grateful, but let me look after you for a bit, all right? And we're going to do whatever it takes to make you feel like it's okay to be gay. Whatever it takes." She rubbed his shoulder. "I printed some things off at work, too. All kinds of phone numbers, and websites and stuff. Did you know there's a youth group in town that's just for LGBT teenagers? It meets every month."

"I'm not going to that," Louis said immediately. "Anyway, Liam and Harry came out last week, we're pretty much our own gay youth group as it is." If Louis could ever actually come out properly to either of them, of course. 

"Liam and Harry?" 

"They're not together. They just both came out at the same time."

"Oh. So, um. You and Liam."

"Me and Liam are a mess," Louis said, "because apparently all I have to do is go up to him and kiss him and not run away afterwards, and at this rate, that's never, ever going to happen. So I'm going to die alone, and Liam's going to get a hot boyfriend that I'm going to want to punch in the face, and I'm going to be that weird guy who won't leave him alone, even though he's going to have been married to his hot boyfriend for like, fifty years, and they'll have _dogs._ And their dogs will have puppies, and I'll be the one stalking him and all of this is _crap_." And his chest was getting tight again. He hadn't noticed that he'd got this far without any of the panic he'd been feeling as standard over the past few weeks. Oh. 

"It is sometimes very, very obvious that you are my son."

Louis looked down at the book in his lap. "Really?"

"Yes. Do you know, I once cut the fringing off a lampshade and glued it to my stonewashed denim jacket because Jackie Magazine told me it would make an excellent fringed jacket in which to win the heart of the boy of my dreams?"

"What colour was the lampshade?"

"Orange."

"Classy."

"It worked, too. Dennis Kealy came over to ask me about why I was wearing a lampshade, and instead of being suave and sophisticated, I went red, mumbled something about geography homework, and ran all the way home. A few weeks later we went on a date to see a Michael J. Fox film at the cinema."

"This is really embarrassing, Mum. And you're essentially telling me that even though you were wearing a lampshade, you had more success with boys than me. Great, thanks."

Mum rolled her eyes. "I did not let Dennis Kealy anywhere near the inside of my lampshade coat, thank you very much. All I'm saying is that I believe that you and I might be a little bit similar in our flair for the dramatic, that's all."

"I've never worn a lampshade."

"There's always time, love. Now, this Liam that we've known since he was little, does he like you back? If you're talking about kissing?"

Louis shrugged. There was no way he was talking about this with her. He concentrated on breathing in and out instead. He didn't like it when his chest got all tight.

"All right, so talking to your mum about all of this is going to be strange, I understand that. But we're going to make it really normal for you to talk about liking boys if it kills me, okay? So get used to this, because we're going to be talking about it a lot."

"This is like a horror film."

"Yes it is. And you're starring in it, so get used to it."

Louis flopped back onto the duvet and covered his eyes with his hands. " _Mum_."

"I have a gay son who I am terribly proud of, and who I think is brilliant," Mum went on. "But I also need a hand with tea. And I bet your sisters have destroyed downstairs by now. Come and help with the toad in the hole."

"Can we not talk about me being gay for five whole minutes?"

Mum narrowed her eyes at him. "All right, deal. Just so long as you know that everyone here loves you more for coming out, and not less, all right?"

Everyone here was just his mum, but whatever. He nodded, trying not to look her in the eye. He liked his mum better when she wasn't trying to get inside her head. That was a lie, but he wished it wasn't quite so awkward. 

"And this weekend I'm going to talk to the girls about what it means to be gay, too."

"Are you going to tell them—"

"Not if you don't want me to. Not yet." His mum cut him off. "But I'm going to be reading these books too, you know. Whatever it takes, all right?"

"Oh god," Louis said, shaking his head. "This is going to be awful, isn't it?"

She smiled ruefully at him. "Better, or worse than how you've been feeling recently?"

He didn't say anything to that, and she rolled her eyes at him. "Come on. Toad in the hole waits for no man. Or woman. Or girl. Toad in the hole isn't sexist."

"Shut up, Mum."

"Come on, kid. Downstairs."

Louis put the books back on his bed, and followed his mum downstairs.

\--//--

On Sunday night, Louis looked down at his phone and tried to think of something to text Liam. Anything at all. Anything to break the silence that had lasted since Friday at school.

He typed and deleted:

 _how was your weekend_ , and  
 _you'll never guess what my mum bought me_ , and  
 _she won't stop talking to me_ , and  
 _Feels like I've said I'm gay 956 times this weekend but never once to you_ , and  
 _I miss you_ , and  
 _what would you say if I asked if I could kiss you_. 

He didn't send any of them, and in the end, he put his phone back down on his bedside table and tried to go the fuck to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to **Jenepel** for the beta. You're the best. ♥

**FIFTEEN.  
Liam.**

"Oh my god," Jesy said, plonking herself down next to Liam on the bench and passing him a cup of tea on Monday morning. "You don't know this? This is fucking great, okay. This is why you should have come out with us on Thursday. How have you missed this? This is all we talked about on Friday."

Liam shrugged, and took a gulp of his tea. "Dunno." He hadn't exactly been paying attention at school on Friday. He'd chosen not to go out on Thursday, going home instead and watching telly with his mum and dad. Louis hadn't gone either, because he'd been off school, so they'd both missed whatever had gone on with Niall and Cher Lloyd. He and Louis had then spent a weird, awkward Friday dancing around each other and not really talking. He hadn't really taken anything else in, not since Louis had awkwardly touched his hand outside by the top playground.

He'd gone over and over that in his head since Friday. It was stupid. He was stupid. Fuck.

"You know that Niall is like, a total goner over Cher, right? And that he's a total fucking idiot whenever he sees her?"

"Oi," Niall protested, from where he was lying full length on one of the other benches, still wearing his sunglasses. Liam had been mostly convinced he was asleep. 

"Shut up, you are. You keep falling over your own feet. It's well funny."

"Well, she was there, in The Square, and Niall sees her, and then spends the next fifteen minutes with me and Leigh, trying to decide whether to go over or not."

"Did not," Niall said. "We were having a perfectly normal conversation. This never happened. We weren't talking about Cher at all."

"Should I go over? What about a drink? Should I get her a drink?" Jesy parroted. 

"Never happened." 

Louis came over and poked at Niall's feet until he moved, sitting down. "What's going on?"

"I'm telling Liam about how much of an idiot Niall was on Thursday over Cher."

"Never, ever happened. It's all bollocks."

"Shut up, Niall. No one cares." Jesy grinned, and Liam glanced over at Louis, and then back down at his revision notes. So far they were in six different colours of felt pen, not that that would help him to remember any of this stuff. "So anyway, Niall's busy asking us if he should go over and buy her a drink and see if he can snog her, when all of a sudden, she's tapping him on the shoulder. He whizzes round—"

"Did not," Niall put in.

"—Whizzes round, knocks over Leigh-Anne's drink, _all down Cher's arm_ , tries to mop it up with his shirt, and then says, 'I'm going to the bar', and walks off."

"This is all a massive lie."

"You know what he forgot to do? He forgot to ask Cher if she wanted one. The girl of his dreams comes over to talk to him, he throws a drink all over her and walks off."

"Stop telling this story," Niall shook his head. "It wasn't like that, and I totally saved it. I bought her a cocktail, and I took it over to her and said I was sorry for splashing her with Leigh's drink, and I fixed it all."

" _Then_ ," Jesy went on, totally ignoring Niall, "Twinkle toes here turns around, trips down the steps and spills his beer all over some guy who is actually the size of a house."

"He was going to kill me," Niall said. "Running away was absolutely the only thing to do in the circumstances."

Liam snorted. "Jesus, Niall."

"You are such a fucking idiot," Louis shook his head. "Did you save it?"

"Totally. Found her at Formation, bought her vodka, she bought me a beer, she totally promised to come to the cinema with me next weekend. She was working this weekend."

"She's not going to show," Jesy told him. "You know that, right?"

"She'll show," Niall said comfortably. "We've been texting. Did you know she's wicked at computer games? It's going to be excellent."

Jesy rolled her eyes, and Liam did his level best not to look at Louis. How come it was so easy for Niall to go out with Cher, yet when Liam wanted to go out with Louis, it seemed like every single thing was standing in their way? He looked down at his revision plan. All of his teachers were telling him he had to make one, but he was really struggling. Organisation and time management had never been his strong point, and he didn't have a clue how he was supposed to get everything on the syllabus covered by a revision plan. He didn't know why none of his friends seemed to be all that bothered, or why none of them even seemed to be working on theirs. Nobody seemed to care, and the frustrating thing was that every single one of them would do better in their exams than Liam. 

"Have you done your revision plan yet, Jess?" Liam asked. He had different coloured felt tips, like his teachers had suggested, but none of that added up to an actual plan he could work from. 

"Nope," she said. "Just going to wing it, you know. They're only AS levels."

Liam tried not to let his frustration show on his face. He hated that he wasn't as bright as his friends. If he winged it, he'd just fail everything. He couldn't fail. 

"I could help you," Louis said. "Or Zayn. He's not here but one of us would."

Liam hated that he needed help. "You don't want to do that."

"Well, I do want to do that, so, I do. You know. Or you could ask Zayn if you'd rather." Louis was giving him an out, but Liam didn't want one. He and Louis hadn't talked since Friday. It felt a bit like someone had chopped his arm off. He wished he didn't fancy him so much. 

"If you don't mind." 

"We can do it at lunch, if you want. Go to the study room and do it there." It was always quieter in there, because nobody could be fucked to use it, not when there was a common room to hang out in. 

Liam nodded, and then the bell went, and they all had to go. "Thanks," he said, as Louis grabbed his stuff. 

"It's no problem," Louis gave him a half a smile. "I'd like to."

\--/--

The study room wasn't empty at lunch, but Liam and Louis commandeered the corner at the back to spread out all of Liam's stuff on one of the desks. Liam got out all of his notes and his files and his felt tips and his pencil case, and Louis sat down next to him and put his bag down on the floor beside his chair.

"So I asked Mrs Gomersall about making revision plans," Louis said, getting his pad and a chewed biro out, and hang on, what? Louis never asked the teachers _anything,_ and he certainly never asked them about homework or revision plans or revising. Louis' plan for school had always seemed to be just get through it with as little effort as possible, and go out after. "She said we should make a list of our subjects first, and then make a list of all the topics we need to revise."

Liam and Louis didn't actually share any lessons, so Liam had no idea why Louis kept saying 'we'. Or why they were sitting so close together at the back of the study room. Liam's knee kept bumping into Louis' under the table. There were a few upper sixth girls at the other side of the room, all busy working. That would be them, this time next year. 

If Liam managed to pass his AS levels, that was.

"So, if we divide this page into three, then you can have a column for each of your subjects, and if you've got a syllabus, we can make a list of each of the topics in each column. Then we write down the dates of the exams, and we work out how much time there is between now and then, and we look at the exam marking scheme, and then we work out which of the topics you need to revise, and then we make a timetable—"

Under the table, Liam's knee bumped into Louis' again, and Louis didn't move his leg away. He stumbled to a halt, and looked down at the page in front of him. 

Liam could hear him breathing. 

"Louis," Liam said softly.

Louis nodded. "We need to make a list of all the times when you want to revise, and then we can break it down into blocks of time and allocate each block a topic."

Liam swallowed, and ducked his head. "Sounds good."

Louis covered Liam's hand with his own, and Liam's breath felt like it was caught in his throat. Liam's hand jerked, and then suddenly they were holding hands, and Louis' hand was hot and sweaty in his, and Liam could hardly breathe. He couldn't look at him in case it broke the spell, in case the moment was lost and everything went back to the way it was—awful and tense and lonely, and Liam missing Louis so much it hurt. All he could do was look down at his hand in Louis'.

He couldn't help but look up. 

Louis was biting his lip, cheeks flushed, and all of a sudden, he ducked down to press a kiss to their joined hands. His cheeks were stained pink, his eyelashes dark against his skin. 

"Lou—"

"Don't, okay," Louis said, in an undertone. "I just—I wanted to, all right?"

Liam nodded. "You can have me, you know. You just have to—you have to kiss me and stay around afterwards. That's it. I'm not your secret." He didn't pull away from Louis' hand. He couldn't. He knew that he should. 

"I know," Louis said, and he didn't either. "I'm working on it."

"The revision plan," Liam said after a moment. "We should get on with the revision plan."

"Yeah," Louis said, and he took his hand out of Liam's, and they didn't touch for the rest of lunch. 

Afterwards, Liam went outside and leaned his head back against the wall and tried to remember when things were normal, and he didn't spend all of his time wanting to kiss his best friend.

_I'm working on it_ , Louis had said. Liam tried not to wish he could work faster.

**SIXTEEN.  
Liam.**

Purgatory was just as hot as it always was.

"You'd think this place would get better air conditioning," Harry said, rolling his eyes and flapping the collar of his shirt as if it was going to end up being some kind of effective cooling system or something. 

"We say that every time." Liam said, amused. It was hot, though, and they'd all only just arrived. They'd taken advantage of the happy hour at the Rat and Pheasant, before wandering over to the club to get in free two minutes before ten. 

"It's true every time," Harry said. "I'm going to go and find Nick. See if he's downstairs or whatever. You all right here?"

"I'll cope." Everyone else had gone to the bar, but Liam wasn't thirsty. The others would come back eventually, especially as the place was only about half full. They were pretty much the only people at the bar. 

Harry curled his hand around Liam's elbow. "Back in a bit."

Liam just nodded, and leaned against the pillar by the edge of the dance floor whilst he waited for the others to come back. He liked Purgatory better than Formation, although he couldn't have told you why. Purgatory was scruffy, and hot, and if you looked too closely the paint was peeling. The floor was always sticky. It played cheesy pop and sold bottles of neon alcopops for a pound each, or three for two pounds. There was usually someone there who thought a lime-green Lycra number was a great outfit. Formation was cooler, and newer, and snazzier. It was full of students and drinks deals where you didn't think they should be paying you to drink the unidentifiable wannabe WKDs instead of paying them. Purgatory tended to be full of sixth formers pretending they were over eighteen, and forty year olds pretending they were ten years younger. Niall had once snogged a woman who had a son who was older than Niall. 

Niall was still proud of that. 

"Not drinking tonight?" Niall asked, coming back to their adopted corner with three neon alcopops of varying shades of horrible. 

"Nope," Liam said. "What the fuck flavour is that?" 

"God knows," Niall said happily, holding up a pink alcopop. "Let's just pretend I bought it in your honour."

Liam probably looked as confused as he felt. 

"It's pink, Liam. Because you're gay."

"Oh," Liam said. "Right, yes."

"Oh my god," Niall said. "You are so rubbish at this."

"I haven't been gay very long, I suppose."

"Long enough, I think." It was Nick, who'd turned up out of nowhere and who was leaning in to press a kiss to Liam's cheek. He was wearing a faded blue t-shirt with James Dean's face on it. 

Liam flushed a bit, especially when Niall looked confused. It was only about as confused as Liam felt. He'd almost forgotten that he was the only one of Harry's friends that Nick had actually met. "Hi."

"Hi," Nick said, wrapping an arm around Liam's shoulders. He grinned at him. "Long time no see. Hey, you want to dance?"

"Um," Liam said. 

"That means yes," Niall said, nudging Liam towards Nick. 

Nick grinned. "Good enough. Come on, handsome." He slid his hand into Liam's, tugging him in the direction of the dance floor. 

"Um," Liam said. 

"Shut up, there's a good chap." Nick pulled him right into the middle of the dance floor. There weren't that many people up dancing yet, so Nick could get away with doing a little spin under Liam's arm. "Two things. Firstly, I've spotted your fella, because he's glaring at me like he'd kill me if he could. Don't turn around! This is operation make what's-his-face jealous."

"Louis," Liam said, a little helplessly. Nick had wrapped his arms around Liam's waist, and was turning him in a circle with a decided lack of co-ordination. "His name's Louis."

"Whatever. For a straight boy he's dying of jealousy over there."

"He's not straight."

"Oh, yes?" Nick grinned, raising an eyebrow. "Things moved on from last week, then?"

Liam shrugged. He didn't really want to out Louis without Louis' permission. Especially when Louis hadn't actually come out to Liam, hand holding aside. They hadn't really talked about it since before the weekend, although all this week Louis had at least seemed happier. Or a bit less mental, anyway, which Liam would take. "A bit. Not really. Maybe?"

"Helpful. Anyway, he's murdering me with his eyes. I think I feel all hot inside. Has he got secret super powers? Because much as I want to be, I'm like, not Iron Man or anything. He could probably kill me. I've got the fighting skills of, like, a banana."

"I used to box."

"The things you learn," Nick said. "Anyway, the second thing is, do you have any idea where young fellow-me-lad is? I was supposed to meet him here."

"Harry? He went looking for you. He's here."

"Oh," Nick said, drawing out the _ohhh_ far longer than it needed to be. "Really?"

"And just for the record," Liam said, since they really were doing the most awkward, shambling dance around the floor together. He stepped out of Nick's arms to spin him around again. Nick went with a grin and an eyebrow waggle. "Just for the record, since you're trying to fix my love life and everything—I think you and Harry could actually be really happy together."

Nick pretended that he couldn't hear Liam over the music, but Liam could still see his flushed cheeks. 

So, Liam thought, whilst Nick was doing his best impression of being embarrassed about Harry, this was what dancing with another guy was like. 

Nice.

"Seriously," Liam said. "I know you think he's too young and everything, but I think you'd be really good together."

"Standing next to Harry, I'm practically collecting my pension," Nick told him, sliding one hand into the small of Liam's back to draw him in closer. "He could have anyone his own age. He could have you."

Liam shrugged, letting Nick lead. "Yeah, no. He doesn't want me. He's picking you. I don't know. Isn't it stupid? You really like someone and you're making up all these reasons why you can't be together, and all of them are crap, and I really like someone, and we can't be together because he doesn't know which stupid box to tick on the what's your sexuality questionnaire."

"Him still being at school isn't a crap reason, lovely." Nick smiled a little ruefully. "Your boy is actually trying to kill me with his eyes, by the way."

"Harry's over the age of consent."

Nick grimaced. "That makes everything sound a million times more attractive, thanks for that."

"He is, though. You should think about all of this. You could be happy together. I don't get why you wouldn't at least try. You both really like each other. Harry's totally stupid over you."

Nick really did go red at that. "Fine," he said finally. "I'll think about it, all right?"

"Fine." Liam ducked his head. "Is Louis still looking?"

"I'm fairly sure he couldn't stop if he tried. He's got it bad, darling."

Liam blushed a bit more. "God. Why is everything so messed up? I'd do anything to go out with him, you know. I'm so tired of waiting."

Nick squeezed his hand, mock-waltzing him around the floor. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Doesn't matter," Liam lied. "I can wait a bit longer for him to figure his shit out, before I go off and get a brilliant new boyfriend with no issues and who isn't a head case." The head case part wasn't exactly fair. Louis looked like he was doing his best, and he really did seem like he was less fucked up than last week. Or the week before. And there had been the hand-holding. 

Hand-holding that Liam had gone home and had a bit of a wank over, if he was telling the truth. He probably wasn't going to admit that any time soon. 

"Just saying, judging by the way he's looking at you, you won't have to wait much longer. Although if he tries to deck me, I'm relying on you to get in the middle and put that boxing to good use. I'm crap, me."

Over Nick's shoulder, Liam could see Harry walking onto the dance floor. He pulled out of Nick's hold, a little embarrassed to be caught fake-waltzing. "Harry's here."

Nick grinned, and wrapped an arm around Liam's waist. He held his other arm out for Harry to duck under. "Hi, Princess."

"Hi, yourself," Harry said, leaning up to press a kiss to Nick's cheek. Nick bit his lip, and refused to meet Liam's eyes. Liam waggled his eyebrows. "I've been looking for you."

"I've been making Liam's boyfriend jealous. Except I think it's backfired, and he's going to kill me. How are you at protecting people? Specifically me?" Nick was edging them off the dance floor, and over towards the corner away from the bar, and away from all of Liam and Harry's friends. 

"Hmm," Harry said. "What do I get in return?"

"My everlasting gratitude," Nick told him. 

Harry frowned. "Is that it?"

"I'll teach you to drive in my car."

"Your car is actually dangerous. That might kill me. Don't you want me alive?"

Nick flushed at that, and Liam rolled his eyes. Talk about third wheel. "Well, okay. This has been great, but I think I'm just going to go over there, somewhere." He pointed randomly over his shoulder. "The bar maybe. Or to see Niall. Anywhere that isn't here."

"You don't have to," Nick said. 

Harry just laughed at that. "I'll see you, Liam." 

Liam grinned, and wandered away, back to where Niall was holding court at one of the tables. Louis was watching Liam instead, and not joining in. He looked—upset. Liam smiled at him, because that was the kind of person he was, and then went to hug Danielle instead. He couldn't waste all of his attention on Louis, even though he wanted to. 

When he looked back, Louis was walking off.

"Who were you dancing with?" Danielle asked, wrapping an arm around his waist. "He was cute."

"Who? Oh, that's Nick. And if I tried it on with him, I think Harry would kill me."

Her eyes widened. "What, really?" She looked over his shoulder over towards the corner Liam had just come from. "Are they holding hands?"

"They better bloody had be," Liam said, resisting the urge to turn and gawp. "They're both idiots if they're not."

"God," she said. "How old is he?"

"He's finished uni," Liam told her, because he didn't know exactly how old Nick was, "and he's really nice. And they really like each other. I think they'll be really good together, if they ever get their shit sorted and actually start going out."

"Good," she said. "Someone round here needs a boyfriend, and if it can't be us, then it should be them. Hey, come dance with me. It's Call Me Maybe." She made the hand sign for phone call, pointed at herself, and then waggled her hand, _maybe_. 

Liam burst out laughing. Danielle was brilliant, and she always had been, and sometimes he really wished he _could_ fancy her. But then he remembered what it had felt like when Louis had kissed his hand earlier in the week. That one, breathless moment had affected him more than every kiss he'd ever shared with Danielle. He leaned in to kiss her cheek. "You're so brilliant."

"Yeah, yeah," she rolled her eyes. "Come on, handsome. Let's show them how it's done. King and queen of the dance floor, all right?"

"All right." Danielle could dance circles around him, but he'd take that. He didn't look over to where Louis had been standing, moments before. "Come on."

He stayed on the dance floor for the rest of the night, sticky and hot and sweaty, dancing with Danielle, and Eleanor, and Jesy, and Niall. He and Niall tore up the floor with their robot dance to Ke$ha's Die Young—an excellent choice—and if Liam was consistently, desperately aware that Louis was missing, then he didn't let on. And if that was Nick and Harry, sitting in the darkest corner of the bar, with eyes only for each other and nobody else, then Liam was happy for them too. He really, really was. 

The only way out was through, after all. 

His shirt was sticking to his back, and he had to wipe his forehead on his sleeve. He pinched at the collar of his shirt, trying to fan himself cool again. It didn't work. 

"Going to get a drink," he said, over the head of Jesy and Leigh-Anne, to Danielle. 

She smiled at him, arms above her head, skin sheening heat as she danced with Eleanor. _See you_. 

He nodded, and edged his way across the dance floor, through the mass of sweaty, dancing clubbers, and headed for the bar. It had to be almost closing time. They'd been dancing for ages. 

Zayn and Perrie were also over by the bar, arguing over which one of them got to buy the other one a drink. 

"Just snog already, will you?" Liam said, before he realised his mouth was open and words were coming out. "Um. Ignore me. Wait, what?" 

Zayn and Perrie were both looking a decided shade of flushed. "We're not—" Zayn said quickly. 

"No," Perrie agreed, looking at him, and then back at Liam. "We don't fancy each other, that's ridiculous."

_No_ , Liam agreed, _and I came down with the last shower_. "Totally ridiculous," he said, waiting whilst they ordered two drinks each, so that they didn't need to decide who was buying whom a drink. "Don't know where I got that idea from." His friends were _idiots_. Total fucking idiots. He wished he could just get drunk and forget about all of them. Fuck it. He ordered one of those ugly neon alcopop things that Niall had had earlier, raising his eyebrows at Zayn and Perrie as he handed over a quid to the barman. 

"Are you drinking?" Zayn asked, after they'd fought their way out of the scrum at the bar and Liam had taken a big gulp of what was a frankly revolting alcoholic purple thing. He would have preferred a Coke. 

Liam narrowed his eyes, looked down at the bottle of purple alcohol, and back at Zayn. "No?" 

"You _are_ ," Zayn said. 

"Nothing gets past you, mate." He took another big drink. So what if Cher and Niall were probably going to get together, and Harry and Nick were totally in fucking love and had disappeared into a corner for the whole of the night, and Zayn and Perrie were circling each other like—um—things that circled each other, and so what if Louis hadn't been seen since Liam had gone over to hug Danielle. Everything was fine _,_ and everything was going exactly to plan, and Liam wasn't going slowly insane. 

Everything was _fine_. He was just really, really tired, and not looking forward to exams. 

Except every time he thought about exams, he thought about his revision plan, and Louis holding his hand under the table, and everything got complicated and mixed up in his head again. 

"Are you all right?" Zayn asked. 

"Fine," Liam lied. "Totally fine. Are you staying here?"

Zayn glanced at Perrie. She shrugged. "Think so."

"Fine," Liam said again. "I'm going to go find the others again. See you in a bit." The club was emptying out a bit as it got closer to one. Maybe he could just hide out in the loos for a bit and not let on that he was getting close to losing it. 

"Yeah," Perrie said, but her attention was already fixed on Zayn, and his on her. It seemed like everyone was happy apart from him. Maybe he should just tell Louis that they should just be friends, and go back to hanging out together without any of this stress. He hated how this felt.

Over on the dance floor, Danielle, Leigh-Anne and Eleanor were dancing together, the three of them, to Kanye and Jay-Z's Clique. He didn't feel like pushing in and joining them. Niall was trying it on with someone who was at least twice their age, but Jesy and Jade were busy laughing themselves silly, and putting Niall off his game. Anyway, Niall really was gone over Cher Lloyd. He backed away from the woman, and wrapped his arms around Jesy and Jade's shoulders instead, grinning. 

Liam didn't feel like going over to any of them, and Harry and Nick were still missing, and Louis hadn't been seen in ages, and this drink was terrible. He left it on a ledge by the wall, and went to find the gents. 

He pissed, and tried not to stare at the condom machine, and spent a bit too long washing his hands just to waste a bit of time. He couldn't leave without the others, because he couldn't afford a taxi by himself. He needed the others to share. 

In the end, when a weird dude with curly hair kept giving him funny looks for reading the descriptions on the condom machine, he went back out into the corridor, only to find Louis leaning up against the wall, thumbs hooked into his belt loops. 

"What are you doing here?" Liam was too tired to deal with any of this. He just wanted to go home to bed. Just for once, he wanted everything just to be easy, and free of any kind of Louis-related drama. He was so tired of it all.

"Waiting for you," Louis said. 

Liam finished drying his hands by wiping them on his jeans. Somewhere down the other end of the corridor, the DJ was playing Anything Could Happen. "You've been gone all night. Where have you been?"

"Downstairs," Louis said. "About. Thinking, really."

"Oh."

Louis looked oddly nervous. There was a heavy feeling in Liam's stomach, and he didn't know why. His shirt was still sticking to him. He wondered if he smelled of sweat. 

"Who were you dancing with earlier?"

Liam frowned. "Who...? Oh, that was Nick. Harry's Nick."

"Oh," Louis tapped his fingertips against his thighs. He looked jumpy. "Right. All right."

Liam wanted to say, _what's it to you?_ but he didn't. What was the point? It wasn't going to fix anything. Liam just felt tired. Really, really tired. He wanted his best friend back, and exams to be over, and everything to be a hundred times less mixed up. He never got what he wished for.

Neither of them said anything. 

"What's up?" Liam said finally, when the silence had gone on too long. Louis looked flushed, and pink. 

"Nothing." Louis made a face. "Well. Not really. Do you want to come down here?" He nodded down the hall towards the fire escape, past the girls' loos. It would be a bit quieter further away from the dance floor, although Liam could still hear Ellie Goulding singing, and hopefully there would be less guys going in and out of the gents' and giving them funny looks. Some girls were squealing in the girls' toilets. He didn't really get why they did that. 

"All right," Liam followed him down the corridor to the corner, where it was darker. 

"There's something I wanted to tell you," Louis took a deep breath. "And I wanted to tell you first, before I tell anyone else."

"All right," Liam said carefully, trying not to play out the worst possibilities in his head. 

Louis looked tired, and very, very scared. "I'm gay. I'm going to come out. That's—that's what I wanted to tell you. Before everyone else. Because I know now. For certain."

A lot of thoughts started to whirl around in Liam's head, and not all of them good ones. A lot of them were really quite scary, all things considered. A lot of them involved Louis saying next that he didn't want Liam anymore the way Liam wanted him. Or that he wouldn't ever be ready for them to be more than best friends. "Okay. Right."

Louis chewed on his lip. "I don't fancy girls. I don't know if I ever did. I don't know what was pretend and what wasn't, but the only thing that's real is you." He held his hands out in front of him. "Fuck, I'm shaking. Is this—? I don't know. Fuck. _Fuck_. Is it supposed to be this terrifying?"

"I don't know." Liam didn't know what else to say. He hadn't been terrified when he'd told his mum and dad. He couldn't remember what he'd felt. His memories of coming out all felt curiously empty. "Do you—do you want a hug?" He couldn't think of anything else to offer. 

Louis shrugged a shoulder, awkward and unsure. He stepped forward, and then back again, bumping into the wall, a nervous dance of the type Liam had never associated with Louis. But then, he'd never associated any of this with Louis, who was brave, and brash, and funny, and loud. It had always been Liam who'd been the quiet one. Liam didn't like the way things had shifted. 

"Lou?"

Louis nodded, still chewing on his lip. 

Liam stepped forwards, opened his arms, and Louis pressed into his hug, hiding his face in Liam's neck. 

"I'm so sorry," Louis said, his voice muffled. "I didn't know then, I promise I didn't. I'm sorry. My head was such a mess. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Liam said, although he wasn't exactly sure what he was saying _okay_ to. Things didn't feel okay. He slid a hand into Louis' hair. 

"I've wanted to tell you all week, but I didn't know how to say it."

"It's okay," Liam said again. He patted ineffectually at Louis' hair. What did this _mean_? Were they hugging as friends, or were they stepping things up? Was Louis ready? Louis was clinging to him, arms wrapped around him, and all Liam could do was hug him back, and keep standing upright, and hope that somewhere along the line, things got clearer. "Are you all right?"

"No," Louis stepped back, out of Liam's arms. He leaned back against the wall, and Liam didn't know what to do, so he stood there in the middle of the corridor and felt useless. He looked down at his feet. "I mean, my mum—my mum is going mad, okay. She's bought all these books and she's reading them, and I'm reading them, and she's making me talk about it all the time so I'll stop thinking that it's something to be ashamed of."

Liam's stomach dropped. Oh. "Are you? Still ashamed of it?" _Still ashamed of me_?

Louis shook his head. "No. I mean—I'm scared to tell people. I'm fucking terrified of telling my dad, and my sisters. I'm scared of telling everyone. I'm scared of having to do it over and over again, forever. That's terrifying. Isn't that terrifying? I wish I was straight so I didn't have to do that."

Liam felt a bit sick. He stuffed his hands in his pockets so that Louis wouldn't be able to see how nervous he was, or how messed up all of this was. 

"But I don't feel like, god, why I can't get my words out, this is ridiculous."

"It's okay," Liam said again, even though it didn't really feel like it was. 

"I feel bad about how I treated you."

"You've said sorry." His heart was hammering. Was this—could he? Please, god, don't let Louis say he didn't want this. Please. 

"I know, but I still feel awful about it." Louis looked awkward. "But—right. All right. I don't feel bad about how I feel about you. I don't feel bad about how you make me feel. And I don't feel bad about what we've done, and being with you. I don't feel bad about any of that, but I don't know how to be less scared. Is there a way? Do you know it?"

Liam shrugged. "I don't know," he said finally. "You just—you do it. You put one foot in front of the other, and you do it. And at some point you come out the other side. Hopefully. My dad still doesn't know what to say to me, and it's been almost two weeks now."

"Oh god, I'm sorry. I didn't even—I didn't know."

"You've had your own shit to deal with." His parents were okay, anyway. They loved him. They'd get used to it. Sometime. Hopefully.

"I've been shit," Louis said. "I haven't had my own shit, I've been shit. Fuck."

"You all right?"

"No," Louis said. "No, because all I want to do is kiss you, right? It's all I've wanted to do for weeks, and I can't do it."

Liam really didn't know what to say to that. He turned his hands palm up, an _I don't know_. He was so tired. "You just—I think you just do it, Lou. You come over here and you kiss me, and then you do it again where people can see. That's it." He couldn't be Louis' secret. He couldn't. He was so tired of this, so tired of it all. It didn't matter how much he wanted him, he couldn't hide, not again. He hated secrets, and he hated lies, and he really, really hated this. 

"You have no idea how much I want that. I want it more than anything." Louis' eyes were bright. 

_Not as much as me,_ Liam thought. He wanted it as much as he'd ever wanted anything in his life. Liam knew Louis wasn't lying. But then—Liam had always known that Louis wanted him. That hadn't mattered all that much when it came to the way things had gone, though. 

"I think I love you," Louis blurted. He flushed a darker shade of red. "I mean—I know I do. I love you. I'm in love with you."

"Oh god." Liam tried to think of something to say, but his head was so confused. He felt—angry. He didn't know why. 

"You don't have to say it back, or anything."

Liam really did kind of want to punch something in sheer frustration. "God. If you had any idea—Louis, you're such a dick. You've been gone all night. Why did you just disappear?" If they couldn't be together, then why was Louis being so cruel as to tell Liam he loved him? _I can't do it_. He couldn't stop hearing Louis say it, over and over in his head. "For fuck's sake. You _know_ how I feel about you."

"I don't," Louis said. "Tell me."

Liam ran a hand through his hair. "God. Louis, I'm in love with you. I love you, but I can't do this. I can't. You can't tell me that and not—and still tell me you can't kiss me. It's not fair. It _hurts_."

Louis looked stricken. 

"Fuck. I just—it hurts, Lou. I don't know. I mean—thanks for coming out to me. I know that was really scary, but—I can't talk to you any more tonight, all right? You're doing my head in. I just want to go home."

He got three steps down the corridor before he turned back around. He didn't know what he was doing. His heart felt like it was trapped in his throat. 

"Just fucking kiss me. Kiss me. Please." 

Louis didn't move. He stayed still, stunned, like a rabbit in the headlights, and Liam had never thought for one moment that it would end up like this. Saying _I love you_ in a grotty corridor and it being horribly, desperately painful instead of perfect. 

"I can't," Louis told him, and his voice shook. 

"You _can_ ," Liam said. "You really, really can. What do you think they're going to do to you if they all know you're gay and you fancy me? They've all been great to me and Harry. All of them. They're your _friends_ , Louis. Why can't you just—" he stopped, and shook his head. "Why am I even bothering? You're not going to do it. You're a fucking coward."

"Liam," Louis begged. "Please. Just a bit more time."

"You can have all the time you want," Liam said. He'd probably regret this in the morning. He regretted it now. "Take as long as you want, Lou. But I'm not going to be waiting any longer." He didn't know why he was doing this, or why things had changed, but he couldn't. He couldn't do this anymore. He wanted to go home, and wake up, and not be in love with the one person in the world who loved him back but who wouldn't be with him. 

He turned around and walked back down the corridor towards the dance floor and the bar, past the toilets and away from Louis, the music thudding through him, louder and louder with every step. 

He wouldn't cry. He choked down a sob and squared his shoulders. It was all right. He was all right. He walked right past Zayn and Perrie, over by the bar, and past Niall, who tried to talk to him. Liam shouldered past him, not convinced he wasn't going to break down if he had the smallest provocation, and went over to the corner, where Harry and Nick were sitting. 

"Can we go?" Liam asked, as brightly as he could manage. His voice shook. "Like, now? Can we just go?"

"What's up?" Harry looked at him, and then over Liam's shoulder at something behind him. "Has something happened?"

"No," Liam lied. "I just want to go home. Will you share a taxi with me? I can't afford one on my own."

"Okay," Harry said, already standing up. He kept looking at something—someone—over Liam's shoulder. Nick started getting his stuff together too. "Are you sure something hasn't happened?"

"Liam," Louis said, from behind him. 

"Go away," Liam said, without turning round. "Are you ready to go, Haz?"

"Liam, will you just listen—"

"What's going on?" Niall asked.

"Nothing," Liam said. "Me and Harry and Nick are going, right?"

"Everyone's going," Zayn said, coming over just as the lights started to come back up and the music stopped. "Chucking out time."

A muscle was pulsing in Liam's jaw. He just needed to get out of here, away from Louis, away from everyone. He rubbed at his eyes. "Right, perfect."

" _Liam_ ," Louis said again. 

Liam didn't turn around. Harry cupped his elbow, and started to steer him towards the stairs, and the exit. Security were already ushering people out, calling out, _Come on, everybody. Let's be having you. Drink up, hit the stairs. Everybody out_. 

_I'm already out_ , Liam thought. He couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. _That's the fucking problem_.

There was a massive bottleneck going down the stairs, as everyone in the club tried to leave at the same time. Liam hung back, not wanting to get stuck in the crowd on the stairs. He could feel Louis somewhere behind him. Liam really, really didn't have the energy to deal with anything else this evening going wrong. Nick had his hand in the small of Liam's back. 

"Come on," he said, mouth pressed to Liam's ear. "Let's get you home."

Liam nodded jerkily. "Yeah," he said. "Thanks." If he could just get home, and out of here, then maybe he could try and fix everything, and make it all okay. If he could just get out of here. If he could just go home. If he could just be somewhere that Louis wasn't. If he could just—if this just wasn't happening. He wanted to be somewhere where this wasn't happening.

**SEVENTEEN.  
Louis**

Louis couldn't breathe. Liam was _leaving_ , he was walking away, he was with Harry and Harry's friend, and they were going. He couldn't find a way to make him stop. "Liam," he said. His mouth was so dry. He pushed past Niall, trying to grab Liam's sleeve, and physically make him stop so that he'd just _listen_. "Liam, will you just—"

Harry turned around, shaking his head, and cut Louis off. "Leave him alone, all right?"

Louis couldn't do that. He didn't know how. The lights were so bright, and everything was dingy and scruffy and smelled like stale booze. Niall was pissed off that Louis had pushed past him. Zayn and Perrie were just standing there, elbows touching, watching them both. Jesy and Danielle were arm in arm. Harry was looking at him like he barely recognised him, and Liam—Liam wasn't looking at him at all. Liam wouldn't turn around, and Louis had fucked it up. He'd finally fucked it up so badly that Liam wouldn't even look at him. He took a step back.

All this time he'd been telling himself that the only thing worse than pretending he was straight and not being with Liam, was being gay and everyone knowing. He'd been wrong. He'd been so, so wrong, because Liam walking away from him and giving up on him was worse than anything else he could have imagined. 

He didn't even have time to screw all of his courage up in a ball. There wasn't any time; there was just Liam, and Liam was leaving him, and Louis didn't want that. "Liam," he blurted. "Fuck, Liam. I'm trying to say I love you."

Time, for a moment, seemed to stand still. Liam turned his head to the side; Louis watched him swallow, and tilt his chin up. Louis was so scared he felt sick, his stomach churning, his palms sweating. He clenched his hands into fists so that nobody could see he was shaking. He couldn't look at the others, only at Liam. 

Liam turned around, shaking off Harry and his friend's hands. "What?" he said, and his voice caught. 

Louis had done that to him. He hated that he'd done this to him, made him upset, given him any reason to be less than happy. Louis had no idea where Leigh-Anne and Jade and Eleanor were, but the rest of their friends were all watching, all suddenly painfully quiet. Louis stood in the middle of them, and tried to stay standing. His legs felt like jelly. Was this what being brave was like? "I love you," he said again. His voice shook. 

"Like, in a gay way?" Niall asked, looking between the two of them. "Christ, is there something in the water?"

"Niall," Liam said, without looking at him. He just kept looking straight at Louis, and his eyes were bright. "Shut the fuck up."

"Is it too late?" Louis asked. He didn't know what he'd do if he'd messed it up now. 

Liam didn't look away, but he didn't say anything, either. The lights were neon and harsh, bringing the scruffy, cheap Purgatory interior into sharp definition. Liam was standing under one of the wall lights by the stairs, and Louis couldn't look away. 

"Liam—"

"No," Liam cleared his throat, and Louis thought, _this is it_. "It's not too late."

Louis' heart was hammering. He couldn't move. 

Liam just kept looking at him. 

"Oh god," Louis managed, his voice catching. He knew what he had to do. He knew what last chance meant. He just had to move. 

_Just do it_ , he begged himself. _Just kiss him._ He could do this. He'd already outed himself, anyway. That ship had sailed. 

"Don't hate me," he said, to no one in particular, and then he crossed the gap that separated him and Liam, pushing past Niall again, and Harry, and Harry's friend Nick, coming to a stop right in front of Liam. It felt like all the breath had been torn from his chest. 

"Lou—"

Louis shook his head, leaned in, and kissed Liam mid-word, off-centre and breathless, half missing his mouth. 

Liam could probably taste his terror. 

Oh god, he was kissing Liam, in front of everyone, and he was _shaking_ , and Liam—Liam curled his hands around Louis' biceps, pulling him in closer, and kissed him back. 

Liam kissed him back, and then he let go of one of Louis' arms to slide a hand up to cup Louis' cheek. Louis was trembling, and Liam was hugging him, one hand sliding into the small of his back to pull him in even closer, and Louis let out a ragged breath into Liam's kiss, and let Liam hold him up. 

He wrapped his arms around Liam's shoulders, and hid his face in Liam's neck. 

"Say something," he said in Liam's ear. He didn't know what to do with his hands, or his mouth, or his _brain_. "Please."

"You just came out." Liam said, one hand still on his back, the other in Louis' hair. Louis felt oddly, desperately _safe_. He still wasn't sure he was supposed to feel that way about being with another boy. About being with anyone, actually. Surely needing that was a bit weird. 

"Yeah, that's not helping." His shirt was sticking to the small of his back. He smelled like sweat. 

"It's all right," Liam said, ineffectually rubbing at Louis' back. His shirt was damp and Liam was probably thinking how gross it all was. "It's going to be all right, I promise."

"Well," Jesy said, from somewhere behind them. "Did anyone else not have a clue?"

Louis laughed at that, a half-hiccup. He slid his hand into Liam's hair, and pressed his mouth to Liam's skin, just below his ear. Liam tightened his hold. 

Louis really liked the way that felt, even though everything around him was starting to come into sharp, scruffy focus. He shifted his position a bit, arms around Liam's waist. Their friends were all looking at them, and Louis' heart was thumping. 

This was terrifying. 

"So," he said, after a long moment where nobody said anything. 

"Wow," Niall said. "Seriously, is this contagious? How come everyone likes dick except for me?"

"I don't," Zayn said. "I mean, like. I like my own, and everything. But not yours."

"My dick's totally fucking excellent," Niall looked injured. "What the fuck's wrong with my dick?" He turned to Harry. "You'd suck my dick, right?"

Harry made a face, and reached for Nick's hand. "No?"

"Oh my fucking god," Niall said. "Seriously?"

"Sorry," Zayn was trying to look apologetic, at least. "If you had tits, mate."

"Um," Louis said. "I don't really like tits."

Niall narrowed his eyes at him. "We know? You were just snogging the face off of Liam."

"Just for the record," Harry butted in. "I'm planning on snogging the face off of Nick at some point, if he'll have me, and I still like tits. It's not actually a pre-requisite for snogging a bloke, you know. Not liking them."

Nick was looking at him like he'd hung the fucking moon. They really were stupid for each other. 

"Right, well, obviously," Niall said. "But Louis' like, a hundred per cent straight. I would have bet on that before tonight."

Louis tried to shrug, but couldn't. "I'm not really," he said finally. Liam's thumb was stroking little circles into his hip. It was the only thing that was keeping him upright. "Not at all, actually."

Niall looked blindsided. "But—FHM, Lou. Like, Cheryl Cole! Mila Kunis? You'd do them, right?"

Louis waited a moment before shaking his head. He didn't look at Liam. He remembered the conversation over Niall's FHM magazine too. He still felt bad about it. "No?"

"Huh," Niall said. "Well."

"This isn't a problem, right?" Liam said. "Nobody has a problem with Louis being gay, right?" He sounded fierce. 

"I don't," Jesy said. She was laughing. "I think it's great."

Niall held his hands up. "I don't have a problem, I just didn't expect it. Don't look like that, it's a fucking surprise, that's all. Zayn, how come you don't look surprised?"

Zayn shrugged, and looked down at the floor. "I sort of maybe caught them kissing a few weeks ago?"

Louis knew he was going a dark, desperate shade of red. When? Where? Did Liam know? Was it at the cinema? Please don't let it have been at the cinema, when they were pretty much having sex round the back. "What?"

"Um, at Formation that time. On the balcony."

"Oh, thank fuck," Louis let out a breath, and very determinedly didn't think about Iron Man 3. He wasn't sure he had apologised enough for that. Or at all. It was a fucking wonder Liam was even talking to him, let alone giving him another chance. He tightened his grip on Liam's waist, just because. "I thought you might have—no, doesn't matter."

"Come on, ladies and gents. You can't stay here all night. Some of us have homes to go to, even if you lot don't." Two burly security guards were ushering them towards the exit. The bottleneck at the top of the stairs was starting to look a little bit less like a crush, but even so, Louis wasn't letting go of Liam for anything. The last five minutes were starting to feel like a blur. The only thing he could still be sure of was that Liam was here, and Liam had his arms around him, and Liam was walking him backwards towards the stairs, still holding on. 

Louis buried his face in Liam's neck, and pressed his mouth to Liam's skin. Could you say _sorry_ like this? He wished he could. He'd say sorry a thousand times over. 

"I can't believe you never told us," Niall was saying. "Zayn, for fuck's sake. What use is it if you don't tell us this stuff?"

"Wasn't my story to tell," Zayn said awkwardly, and Perrie smiled at him then, slipping her hand into the crook of Zayn's arm. Zayn flushed. 

Niall rolled his eyes. "How come I'm always the last to know?"

"Actually," Louis said. "I think I was the last to know."

"Well," Danielle said, "I think it's great."

"Me too," Liam said, sliding his hand into Louis' hair as they joined the queue going down the stairs. "I think it's bloody brilliant."

Louis felt sick. He didn't wish he hadn't done it, but it didn't mean he didn't feel like he might throw up. "Can we all talk about it tomorrow instead?"

Liam loosened his grip on him a bit at that. "You all right?"

Louis nodded. "Yeah," he said, but he pushed the girls in front out of the way a little, as he sneaked past them on the stairs, Liam following, his hand still on Louis' hip. 

"You sure?"

"Might throw up," Louis told him, overtaking another group of girls on the stairs. The cloakroom stood between them and the main exit; that was why it always took so long to get out. There was no way to bypass the massive queue for coats and bags, other than just hang around and wait for people to disperse. "Or maybe die of a heart attack. One of those."

"Please don't die."

Louis really didn't want to die without getting to kiss Liam again, but right here on the stairs in everyone's way was probably not the best place to do that. 

Fuck it. 

He turned around, stepped up one step so that he was on a level with Liam, and pressed his mouth to Liam's. 

"Enough of that, boys," someone called from the cloakroom. "Take it outside. You're holding up the queue."

Liam had gone all pink. Louis really, really liked it when he could make Liam look like that. He wondered if he'd ever be able to learn all the things that made Liam flush, and then get to do them to him, one after the other. 

Louis didn't want to think about the future. The here and now was scary enough. "Come on," he said, arm around Liam's waist. On the stairs above them, all of their friends were waiting, not-so patiently, for them to get their act together so they could leave. Louis tried not to meet their eyes. "Let's get out of here."

"All right," Liam said, eyes bright, and they pushed through the drunken rush of people to get outside, into the shopping arcade, and down to the bottom where the taxis were all lined up to take them home. They didn't hold hands, but every time Louis looked over, Liam was looking at him, biting his lip and smiling. 

_Yeah_ , he thought. _Okay_.

\--/--

The taxi they'd shared with Nick and Harry dropped him and Liam off at the top of Liam's road, but instead of walking towards either of their houses, by unspoken agreement they headed for the golf course instead, their elbows brushing, hands shoved in their pockets. Louis kept stealing glances over at Liam, catching him looking back, and then Liam would flush, looking down at his feet. They didn't say anything. Louis was going to be in such trouble when he got home for being so late, but it didn't make him turn around and head for home. If his mum was still up, waiting for him, then there would be a text on his phone, so he had to assume that she was in bed and he wasn't going to get yelled at until she heard the door go at whatever time he finally got home.

In the end, they climbed over the wall and headed for one of the greens. At least there was no danger of balls flying at them in the middle of the night. 

"Sorry about earlier," Louis said finally, when they'd come to a halt by one of the holes. He poked the flag a bit. "About—you know. Not being able to kiss you when you asked me to."

Liam shoved his hands even deeper in his pockets. "It's all right," he said. "I mean—we got there in the end, didn't we?"

"Not really the point though, was it?" Louis was trying to get his thoughts into some sort of order in his head, but it was hard. "I was just—I was so focused on just telling you I was gay. I didn't think about the rest. You know it took me all night to build up to telling you? Like, all night. That's where I was. Giving myself a good talking to. And then—I told you, and it was great, but I just didn't think. I should have thought."

"It went all right though, didn't it?"

"I can't really remember. It's all a blur. I was so fucking terrified. I've never been so scared in my life. How stupid is that? It was just you. And everyone else. But my friends, anyway. Then afterwards I just felt sick. The adrenaline. It wasn't you. I didn't feel sick because of you."

"I was hoping that," Liam said. He looked the other way. The moon was bright in the sky. "You don't—you don't wish you hadn't done it, right?"

Louis toed his trainer into the grass. No, he didn't wish that. He didn't wish that at all. He shoved his hands in his pockets again and looked at his feet. "You know what I wish? I wish I'd kissed you on the dance floor at Formation that time after we'd got off on the balcony. I wish I'd held your hand when we went back into the cinema after, you know. I wish I'd asked you out in front of everyone when we were doing karaoke. I wish I'd been less mental the past few weeks. I wish I hadn't been so scared. I wish I still wasn't so fucking scared." He couldn't look up. "I wish all those things, but I don't wish that I didn't fancy you."

"Lou—" Liam touched his elbow, and Louis looked up, startled. Liam's eyes were bright. "Did I push you too hard? Tonight? Because I'm sorry if I did."

Louis shook his head. "I've been a total bastard, the last few weeks. My head has just been—it's a fucking mess, and I've been awful. I've been awful to you. I know that—I know that earlier, you kissed me back. I'm trying to say I can cope if that's not what you want. If I'd been treated the way I treated you, I wouldn't be up for going out with me either."

"Are you—are you breaking up with me?"

Louis' head shot up at that. "Breaking up? Are you kidding me? If you'd go out with me, I'd be so fucking happy I wouldn't know what to do with myself. God. Are we—do you think we're going out?"

"You kissed me in front of everyone," Liam sounded confused. "I thought that meant—I thought you were my boyfriend."

_Oh god_. "Do you want that?"

"Of course I want that. You're, like—you're my best friend, and I'm in love with you. I can't stop thinking about you. Of course I want to go out with you. Did I get it wrong?"

Louis bit his lip. "I was trying to say you didn't have to go out with me if you didn't want to. Not that I didn't want to go out with you."

"I'm really tired, Lou. Can we just start saying what we do want?"

Louis nodded. His mouth was dry. "I want to go out with you," he said, all in a rush. "I want you to be my boyfriend. I want to tell my dad I like boys. I want my sisters to know too. That's what I want."

Liam looked pink in the moonlight. There was a breeze in the top of the trees over by the edge of the green. "Will you come over for your tea one night this week?"

"Tea?"

"It might be really awkward. Dad keeps going to sort the shed out instead of watching telly when I'm in the room. It's going to be even weirder when I'm holding your hand."

Louis' head shot up. Oh. "I can cope with it being awkward if you can." 

"What about the hand holding? How about that?"

Louis steeled himself, and held out his hand. "We can get a head start on that now, if you want."

Liam looked down at Louis' outstretched hand, and then slowly, ever so slowly, he slid his hand into Louis', and squeezed. "Like this?"

"Yeah," Louis nodded. His heart felt like it was in his throat. After everything they'd been through, why did this feel like the beginning? His hand was sweating. He swung their joined hands a little as an experiment. 

It made Liam laugh. "God, I like you so much, Lou. You make me feel—I've never felt like this about anyone."

Louis blushed. "Me neither." He swallowed. "Do you want to come to mine before school in the morning? We could walk in together."

Liam looked down at their joined hands. "Like this?"

"Yeah," Louis said. He'd had a taste that evening of what it was like to still be in the closet and not have Liam, and he'd hated it, brief though it had been. His mum had said the first time would be the hardest. He hoped she was right. If he thought too much about walking into school like this, he'd go back to wanting to throw up again, and he really, seriously didn't want to be sick. Everything about this was terrifying. "Liam—"

Liam tugged him closer, and touched his hand to Louis' cheek. "We've done all of this backwards and upside down. You were too drunk to remember our first kiss properly."

Louis shook his head at that. He might have been drunk—he would never have had the courage to do it otherwise—but he remembered it all right. The glorious ease of stepping up and pressing his mouth to Liam's; the way he'd tasted, alcohol-slick and warm. Now, he realised that he was the one tasting like booze, but it didn't matter. He remembered. "I remember."

"I barely do," Liam said. "You took me by surprise. I'd never even—I hadn't thought about it before then."

"What, never? Really?" Louis had thought about it a lot, kind of. Sort of. He remembered a lot of hazy thoughts about handsome boys and how fit Liam was, but whatever he'd done to make it acceptably non-gay in his head, he'd done well. "I couldn't look at you without thinking about how fit you were."

Liam blushed again. Louis wanted to see what it felt like to touch him as he went pink; he stroked his thumb over Liam's cheek. 

"I don't know how I never noticed that I fancied you rotten," Liam sounded hesitant. "You turned everything in my head inside out that night."

"My head too." He didn't want to think back to that time again. Everything had hurt so much. He'd got so tired in the end. Just getting up and going to school had been exhausting. 

"If you kiss me again, I might remember it this time." 

Louis laughed at that. "You think?"

"You could try." Liam was so close now. They were still holding hands, but Louis pulled his hand away and stroked his fingers through Liam's short hair instead, down over his ear, his jaw, until he was cupping Liam's face in his hands, and everything around them was silent, apart from the breeze in the treetops. Louis met his gaze in the moonlight, took a breath, and touched his mouth to Liam's. 

"Oh," Liam said softly, after a moment, and they were close enough that Louis could feel Liam's breath against his lips. 

"I'd never felt as close to anyone as I did with you when we were outside the cinema, afterwards," Louis told him, not moving away. "Before I fucked it up. When we were just kissing, after. You told me how great I was."

"I remember," Liam said. 

"I wanted that so much I couldn't think straight."

"I should think not," Liam said. His hands were stroking up and down Louis' sides, down to his hips and then back up again. "Thinking gay, though, that's something else entirely."

"Liam." Louis didn't know how to say he was sorry. 

"Don't think about it anymore, Lou," Liam said, even though Louis hadn't said it out loud. He kept stroking his thumbs in circles over Louis' shirt. "Seriously. We'll just do it again here." He slid a hand into the small of Louis' back, still stroking his fingertips in circles. He touched his mouth to the corner of Louis' mouth. One breath, another. Louis' eyes fluttered closed, and Liam slid a hand into Louis' hair and kissed him again. 

Louis opened his mouth between one breath and the next, and Liam ran his tongue over Louis' bottom lip. 

He had goosebumps. He tilted his chin up, just a little, and Liam deepened the kiss. 

How Louis had ever kidded himself he wanted anything else, he had no idea. He kissed Liam back, and they kept kissing even as clouds took the moon from them, and darkness spread across the green, and over them both. Louis found himself shivering in Liam's arms as he kissed him again. 

"Can I say you're my boyfriend now?" Liam asked after a while, rubbing his nose against Louis'. 

Louis nodded. _Boyfriend_. He dragged his tongue over Liam's bottom lip. Liam was holding him in his arms, and Louis felt so _safe_. He trusted Liam more than he trusted anyone else in the world, apart from his mum. He always had. Liam was loyal and brilliant and so, so trustworthy. He'd never let you down, no matter what it cost him. 

Louis couldn't reciprocate. He'd let Liam down time and time again over the past few weeks. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to show Liam how much he meant to him. How much _this_ meant to him. It came to him in a second, and he blurted out, "I could blow you, if you wanted."

Liam stilled. "We've been going out for like, two minutes. Officially."

"So?"

"So, you probably don't know how to blow someone."

"It can't be that hard," Louis really, really wanted to do something that showed how much he thought of Liam. "We could do it here."

"No," Liam said, shaking his head. He ran his hands down Louis' arms, coming to rest on Louis' elbows. 

"Don't you want me to?" Louis tried not to sound petulant, but he couldn't help it.

"For fuck's sake, of course I want you to." Liam gripped him tighter. "Lou, Louis. Look at me. You don't have to prove how much you like me. I _know_. You don't have to blow me in a field in the middle of the night to prove that."

"It's not a field, it's a golf course." It was his best sulky voice.

"When we have sex again," Liam said patiently, "I want it to be perfect. Well, not perfect, but I want there to be a _bed_. That's the bare minimum. Well, you. You, and a bed. And no fucking grass stains."

"You're turning me down." Louis didn't know whether to feel hurt or relieved. He really had no idea how to blow anyone—he'd never even _had_ a blowjob, let alone given one—but he'd probably have preferred it if Liam had actually wanted one.

Liam pressed a kiss to Louis' open mouth. "If I spend more than five seconds thinking about you with your mouth on my cock, then I will do something seriously embarrassing, like come in my jeans. Then you can flipping guarantee that my mum will be waiting for me right inside the front door when I get home, and there's hiding the fact that I want to start having sex, and there's sticking a giant flashing sign over my head that says, I've just done it in a field."

"—Still a golf course."

"Whatever."

Liam kissed him again. "Do you seriously want to give your first blowjob on the golf course? In the middle of the night? Kneeling on the grass?"

Louis didn't actually want to do any of those things. He did, however, want to think a bit more about what Liam's cock looked like up close, and wonder what it would taste like against his tongue. "I want to blow you, though."

The moon had come out from behind the clouds again. Liam looked—he looked turned on. 

Louis ran his hand through Liam's hair again. "Okay, not here. I get it." He was getting tired, anyway. The later he got in, the longer his grounding was probably going to go on. He kissed him again, and Liam groaned into his mouth. When Louis ran his hand down Liam's arm, he was trembling, and when Louis shifted forward a step and bumped into Liam's hip, he could feel his erection. 

"Don't say anything," Liam breathed, his erection still pressed against Louis' hip. "It's just—you're kissing me, and talking about blowing me, and I don't think I'm going to be able to get rid of the mental image for a while, that's all."

Louis rested his forehead against Liam's. "If you think I'm going to be able to go home and not have a wank, you're wrong. God, you're so hot. You're the hottest person I know. You're so fit."

"Fuck, you too." Liam said. "I am, too. The wank, I mean. That's what I'm going to do as soon as I get in."

"You should text me afterwards," Louis said, before his brain was properly in gear. 

Liam startled. 

"Fuck that," Louis went on. "Text me during."

"What are we _doing_ ," Liam said. 

"Everything backwards and upside down," Louis said, suddenly breathless. "Let's go home."

Liam laughed. "I'll come over and walk you to school in the morning."

"Yeah," Louis said. "You'd better. We're going out now."

His heart was hammering. God. 

Liam kissed him again, and Louis laughed against his mouth. _Yes_.

\--/--

His mum was waiting for him when he got in, sitting on the stairs in her dressing gown, cradling a cup of tea.

"So, you and Liam, huh?"

"What?" Louis kicked off his shoes and dumped his wallet on the table at the bottom of the stairs. 

"Next time you want to get off with a boy when you're well over an hour late home, and you've got school in the morning, you might want to pick a spot that isn't directly below the landing window, Louis. You know that security light's automatic. Straight into my bedroom that shines. I've had enough time to go and make a cup of tea and let it go cool enough for me to drink. Ten minutes I've been sat here, Lou." She sounded reproving, but when Louis looked up, she was smiling. 

"God, Mum," Louis said, and he ran up the stairs to hug her. "He loves me."

She hugged him back. "I'm so glad, love. I've been so worried about you."

He hated worrying her. He'd hated all of it, but especially that. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. And I didn't mean to be late. We were just sorting everything out."

"Hey." She patted him on the back. "Let's not think about that now. You're not the only person who has to get up in the morning. "

"Sorry," he said again. He wondered if he smelled like Liam. They'd been kissing long enough. His lips felt chapped. He wondered if his mum could tell. 

He didn't care too much about that right now. Liam had finally dragged himself away when his phone had beeped to say his battery was running down. It had been two thirty. They were both supposed to have been home between one and half past at the latest. He kissed him one last time, another, a third time—then he'd said, _I'll text you when I'm home. You know_. And he'd jogged off. 

Louis had a really, really fit boyfriend. "We're going out," he blurted. "Me and Liam."

His mum stood up. She left her mug of tea on the windowsill. "Well, I should hope so. Twenty minutes snogging on my doorstep, the least I could hope of him is that he's good enough to hold your hand after."

Louis snorted. "I love you," he said, and hugged her again, harder this time. 

She hugged him right back, as tightly as she ever did. "Welcome back, kid. Now, off to bed, go on. If you're grumpy tomorrow for one second, you're grounded, hear me? And this is the only time you're going to get away with being home past your curfew. Understand?"

Louis understood. He nodded, and kissed her cheek. "Night, Mum."

"Night-night, love. Don't let the bedbugs bite. Love you."

Louis went into the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and bit his lip to keep from smiling. Did he look different? He felt different. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a message from Liam. 

_Homeeeeeeeee you know what im gonnaaaa do now rightttttt are u gonna do it toooo_

Oh god. _Oh god_. 

He rubbed the heel of his hand over his dick. _Yeah,_ he typed, one-handed, _gonna do it right now_.

He brushed his teeth in about fifteen seconds, spat it out all over the sink, and called that getting ready for bed. It was almost three in the morning, and his alarm went off at ten past seven. He was so nervous about walking into school with Liam in the morning that his stomach felt like it was turning somersaults, but he tried to stuff those feelings away, and concentrate on Liam instead. 

It wasn't hard. Liam was ten minutes away, and he was probably getting into his pyjama shorts and a t-shirt, and he was getting ready to wank at the idea of Louis blowing him, and Louis really, really liked the thought of that. He didn't know why he'd never thought about Liam wanking before. God, the idea of him putting his hand down his shorts and wrapping his hand around his dick and just—god, touching himself. 

Louis was very, very hard all of a sudden. He went back into his bedroom, closed the door, and took off all of his clothes. He reached for his pyjamas, and then—he stopped, and stayed naked. 

He reached for his phone to text Liam. He'd never—with anyone. This was going to be his first time doing this. He wrapped his hand around his dick and gave it a little tug, just the way he liked it. He imagined getting down on his knees in front of Liam, and getting to feel his dick on his tongue, and, oh god. _Oh god_. If he didn't fuck this up, it was something that he might actually get to do. 

_Imagining giving you a blowjob_ , he typed, and pressed send. He'd never sent anything like that before, not ever. He felt hot all over. 

Hot, and naked, and _sleepy_. 

He didn't wait for Liam to text back. He was really hard, and tonight he'd got to kiss Liam, and have Liam kiss him back, and they'd talked about having sex, and one day soon Louis might actually get to blow Liam, and make him come. All he could remember about kind of having sex with Liam round the back of the cinema was how soft Liam's skin had been, and how slick the tip of his dick had been, and how Louis' hand had smelled like Liam's dick, afterwards. God, he'd wanted _so much_ that night, and he'd been too scared to even look Liam in the eye. 

He couldn't think about that now. He cupped his balls in one hand, wanking his dick with his other, sliding his thumb over the head as lube. He hadn't ever managed to go up to the counter in Boots with lube; it had always been something he kept putting off for the next time he was in town. Their PSHE teacher had told them in year eleven that if they felt too embarrassed to go up to the counter and buy condoms, then maybe they should think about whether they were really ready to have sex. 

Louis thought that maybe if it meant he got to see Liam naked and touch him all over, he could manage to go up to the counter and buy condoms and lube. He'd manage a lot for that. 

His phone buzzed with a message. _This is so dirttyyyyy_

Louis snorted, and tried to type back with one hand. _Yeah and hot_. He pressed send. 

All of that kissing outside had wound him up enough that it wasn't going to take him long. He had a boyfriend. He was going out with Liam, and Liam _loved him_. Liam had got hard thinking about Louis blowing him. Liam was jerking off right this second, ten minutes down the road, and thinking about him. This was the dirtiest thing he'd ever done, and he'd put his hand up Eleanor's skirt before GCSEs. 

He tried to imagine what it would taste like, and what it would feel like to have Liam's dick in his mouth. What it would be like when he made Liam come. If he'd swallow. If some would miss his mouth and he'd have Liam's come on his face. God, Liam's _come_. Fuck. 

Naked and on his knees on his bed, he fisted himself harder, and faster, one hand to the wall to brace himself. He was so close to coming, his orgasm fizzing across his skin like a firework about to go off, and then he was coming, breathless and sweaty and totally fucking naked. 

He flopped down onto the bed, boneless, and reached for the roll of loo paper he kept hidden down the side of his bedside table, winding off a handful to clean off his dick, and his hand, and his thigh. He'd missed a bit, and there was a wet patch on the duvet, and a bit on the sheet. He didn't care. 

Liam was his boyfriend, and Louis was gay, and everything was terrifying, and exciting, and _new_. 

For the first time in weeks, he could fall asleep without wishing that things were different. 

Without wishing that he was different. 

It was exciting, really. 

His phone buzzed with another message. _Finished myself offffff rllly quickly that was your faultttt Louis. Ps I love youuuuuuuuuu xxxx see u in th mornnnningggg_

His boyfriend was a brilliant, brilliant idiot who couldn't spell if you paid him, and Louis wouldn't have it any other way. 

_Love you too. Youre a massive idiot. See you in the morning xxxxxxxx_

He put his phone down on the bedside table, and turned off the light, pulling the duvet up and over him. He closed his eyes, and tried not to shiver in excitement at the thought of seeing Liam again.

**EIGHTEEN.  
Liam**

Liam shoved his hands in his pockets as he waited for Louis to answer his front door the following morning. What if he'd changed his mind since last night, and had gone to school without him? He hopped from foot to foot. He hadn't been up all that long, finally stumbling out of bed at the last minute, and trying to avoid his mum and dad in the kitchen. They'd only yell at him for being late in, and his dad would be weird with him. He hated that. One day he had to get used to having a gay son, right? He had to. This weirdness couldn't carry on forever.

He really hated the weirdness. 

He rang the doorbell again, just in case nobody had heard it the first time. Then he heard someone thundering down the stairs, and then the door flew open to reveal a breathless Louis on the mat, one sock on and one sock off. 

"Hi," Louis said, biting his lip. He was holding his sock in his hand. 

"Hi," Liam managed. He tried not to go red, but it didn't go that well. He kept thinking about texting Louis last night when he was having a wank. 

"Well," Louis' mum said, coming down the stairs and putting her hair in a ponytail. Liam had to stop thinking about wanking right this second. This actual second. He could feel himself going pink. "This is nice. Aren't you going to invite your young man in, Louis? How are you, Liam? Did you get plenty of sleep? Nice and rested for school today?"

Liam made an embarrassed, choking kind of a noise. "Plenty of sleep, thanks."

Louis peeled off his sock and shoved his feet into a faded pair of Toms instead, dropping his socks on the hall table. "You're so embarrassing," he said. "Stop being embarrassing, Mum. Sorry, Liam."

Liam kept hearing, _your young man_ over and over in his head like a loop. 

"I'm only teasing," Louis' mum said. She leaned over and kissed Louis' temple. "I'm just happy that you're happy. And that you've got a boyfriend I approve of."

" _Mum_ ," Louis hissed, going bright red. "God, Liam."

"We're going to normalise you being gay if it kills me," his mum said. "Sorry, Liam. Are you going through this with your mum?"

Liam thought about his mum. His wonderful, amazing mum, who loved him so very much indeed, but who was pretending that Liam wasn't gay, and kept trying to sweep it under the carpet like a bit of dirt on the rug. "Kind of," he lied. He sort of wanted to cry a bit if he thought about his mum and dad too much. They loved him so much, and he knew that, but it felt like they kept getting things wrong. He hated that feeling. His mum kissed him goodbye every morning, and his dad asked him how school was every afternoon, and they were _trying_ , but trying wasn't the same as just loving him for who he was. "It's a bit weird."

"Well, it might have been a bit of a shock for her. She's probably working really hard at making it not weird."

"That makes it weirder." But Liam didn't want to talk about his mum and dad with anyone, not even Louis or his mum, much as he liked them both. Loved, in Louis' case. Even the hint of someone saying his parents were less than perfect made his hackles rise. "It's fine, though. Everything's fine."

"All right. Why don't you come over for your tea one night next week?"

"I'm already going to Liam's for my tea next week," Louis butted in, stuffing his homework into his schoolbag. "Leave him alone, Mum. God."

"There's more than one night in the week, Lou." She peered around the bannisters and into the dining room, to where Louis' sisters were making enough noise for ten people. Louis' house was always chaotic in the mornings. At any point, actually. "If you girls have finished your breakfast then you should start cleaning your teeth. We have to go soon." The girls didn't seem to make any move towards going upstairs to the bathroom.

"I'll see you later," Louis said a little gruffly, leaning in to kiss his mum on the cheek. 

"Okay. Have a good day at school, boys." She swallowed, and for a moment, Liam was very aware of how hard she was working to make this all right for Louis. It made him feel sad in the pit of his stomach that no one knew how to just treat them like they were normal. "If you have any trouble at all, you call me, all right? Call me straight away."

Louis looked down at his feet. "Mum—"

"The first time is the hardest," she said. "You hold your head up high. You're right just the way you are, Lou, and don't let anyone try and tell you otherwise, or they'll have me to answer to."

Louis looked like he was about to cry. That couldn't happen, else it would set Liam off too. He'd only had four hours sleep, he couldn't be held responsible for his emotions. 

"Come on," Liam held his hand out. "We'll be late."

Louis stared at his hand for a moment, a muscle going in his cheek. He—hesitantly—slid his hand into Liam's. It felt warm against Liam's palm. Warm, and a little clammy. 

"All right?" Liam asked, trying to sound confident even though his heart was thumping and he could feel his hand getting sweaty. 

Louis nodded. "Yeah."

" _Mum,_ " one of the girls was yelling for her. She rolled her eyes at them both. 

"Off you go, you two."

She closed the door after them, and Liam and Louis were left standing on Louis' drive, holding hands. 

Liam leaned in a little awkwardly and kissed Louis' cheek. "You still want to do this?"

Louis squared his shoulders. "Mum made me make a list of things that I want at breakfast, and she said I should tell you because I had to start being more honest about what I want."

"All right." Liam didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't just stand here in Louis' drive, though, so he tugged on Louis' hand a bit, so that they were at least walking up the drive and onto the road. He was holding his boyfriend's hand in public. His stomach was turning slow, anticipatory somersaults. 

"One," Louis said, holding up one finger. "I want to go out with you. Mum called it going steady, because she's a hundred and six. Two, I want to tell my dad, because if he doesn't want to see me anymore then I'd rather know now than later. Three, I want to pass my exams, because I'm not repeating year twelve. I'd rather die. Four, I want my sisters to know about me and you. Five, I want some actual sleep. Six, and I didn't tell my mum this one, but I want to have sex with you again. But properly this time."

Liam went a nice, bright, desperate kind of a shade of red at the last one. "Um," he said. 

"Well," Louis went on. "I'm trying this amazing new thing where I tell the truth."

"How's that working out for you so far?"

Louis squeezed his hand. "I'm going out with you, aren't I?"

Liam grinned at that, and ducked his head. "Fair play."

Louis laughed. "Come on. I'm shitting myself at the thought of coming out to everyone, we might as well get it over and done with. You can protect me from anyone who's a dickhead, right? You can box."

"I can," Liam agreed. He could feel how tense Louis was in the way he was holding on to Liam's hand for dear life, even if he was pretending to be just fine about the idea of walking into school hand in hand. "Anyone so much as looks at you funny, and I'll deck 'em."

"My hero," Louis said. 

Liam let out a long breath. "Come on," he said. "Sooner we do it, sooner we can hide out in the common room with everyone else."

The walk to school took them through the supermarket car park, past the kids hanging out by the supermarket doors, across the square, through everyone milling about before the bell rang for registration, and in the side entrance by the sixth form block. 

Liam's hand was sweating by the time they hit the car park, and it didn't get any less clammy with Louis holding on with grim determination, squeezing hard enough almost to hurt. They had a very forced conversation comparing Thor, Captain America, Iron Man and The Avengers, and didn't once look around them to see if the lower school were staring, or making comments, or whispering behind their hands. They were just two sixth formers holding hands and having a conversation about Mark Ruffalo's Hulk, that was all. Nothing to see here, moving right along. 

Everyone was staring, teachers included, and everyone was whispering. Liam flushed a dark shade of red and kept on talking about Loki, even though he could barely concentrate on what he was saying. He wasn't sure it mattered, anyway. Louis wasn't listening, just coming back at him with a different conversation about the upcoming Captain America sequel. Just keep talking, that was all they had to do. Keep talking and it would all soon be over. 

Once they got into the sixth form block, they escaped round the back of the ICT classroom and leaned up against the wall, heads back. 

Louis let out a stream of swearing, culminating with _tit fucking arse bollock donkey wanger_ , and closed his eyes. 

Liam couldn't help but laugh at that. He wiped his hands on his jeans. They were still sweating. He was hot and sticky and his heart was hammering, the adrenaline making him feel sick right at the back of his throat. 

"I think I'm going to throw up," Louis said.

"Me too. God, let's not do that again."

"We only have to do it every day for the rest of forever. Great."

"Hey, come on. We never have to come out to the whole school again. That's got to be a win, right?"

Louis grinned at that. 

"You ready to go in?" Liam asked.

"Yeah," Louis said, after a moment. He reached for Liam's hand. "Let's do this."

**NINETEEN.  
Liam.**

"Here," Louis said three weeks later, unzipping his rucksack and coming out with a sandwich wrapped in cling film. He plonked himself down on the bench next to Liam—who was trying to do his business studies revision, since his exam was _that afternoon_ , and not everyone had finished their exams yesterday, like Louis—and dropped the sandwich down on top of Liam's folder. "I made you lunch."

Liam blinked. "Um."

"Eat it, then," Louis said, poking the sandwich a bit nearer. "It's jam. Unless you've already had lunch, obviously. In which case I still probably won't ever forgive you for not eating my jam sandwich as well. As sustenance. For your exam. Because I'm the kind of boyfriend who brings revision snacks."

"Snacks?"

"I chopped up an apple," Louis said, delving back into his rucksack and coming out with an apple wrapped in cling film and a grab bag of Quavers. "And brought you crisps, look. Aren't I the best boyfriend?"

The common room was virtually empty. Most of the sixth formers had finished their exams, and apart from the second business studies paper and one of the further maths modules, exams were almost over. Jesy was over the other side of the room, feverishly holding up flash cards and talking to herself. Harry had been around earlier, but he'd taken his revision notes off to the field with a Cornetto. Liam was the only one of his business studies A level class to be having a meltdown in the common room. Exams were rubbish, honestly. Liam had been here all day, trying to remember at least one thing from his messy, misspelled notes that he could use in his exam. He was tired, and his brain felt like cotton wool, and he really, really needed today to be over with. 

He couldn't even think anymore, and he was so tired. He rubbed his eyes. "What are you even doing here?" Louis had always made a point of being in school as little as humanely possible, and definitely not when he didn't need to be. 

Louis rolled his eyes, and slid his hand into Liam's. "I'm here to stop you going mental," he said. "Because you've been working every minute for days and I want you to take a break. And anyway, Zayn said I had to invite you to the pub afterwards because you've been ignoring his texts."

"I've not been ignoring them." Much. Revision had been more important, that was all. 

"Well, not replying, then. Eat your sandwich, I made that with my own fair hands. It's raspberry and everything."

"I need to work—"

"You need to take ten minutes to have some lunch," Louis said sharply. "I'm not kidding. Eat your food, and afterwards I'll go through your notes with you, and remind you that you actually know this shit. Don't look at me that way. I'm right."

"The exam, though."

Louis leaned in and kissed his cheek, either not noticing or not caring that Mr O'Connor, the business studies teacher, was walking through the common room. 

That was a nice change. 

"You're brilliant," Louis went on, as Mr O'Connor walked by, and Liam went a hopefully fetching shade of pink. "You're going to ace this exam, and then the summer will be ours, and we can figure out how we're going to have sex."

It turned out that getting some time by themselves in a room where no one would walk in when they were naked was harder than anticipated. So far they'd only managed feverishly shoving their hands up each other's shirts before someone called them downstairs or knocked on their bedroom doors.

"Oh, um. About that." Liam had forgotten in all the revision drama. "So, um, you know my sister?"

"Which one?"

"Nicola. So, you know she's got this new boyfriend, right?" He had bored Louis with all the details last week. 

"Knobhead Dave?"

"Yeah. Apparently he's taking her to London in July? To see Dirty Dancing. They're staying in a Travelodge in Covent Garden."

"Dirty Dancing, the film?"

"The musical."

"There's never a musical." 

"Apparently. Anyway, so, um, she phoned me to ask if I'd go and feed the fish."

"Yes," Louis said, only looking a bit like Liam was stupid. 

Liam went bright red. "She said that if I fed the fish and emptied the bins and washed the sheets then she wouldn't ever know if I'd stayed over or not."

"Oh," Louis said, raising his eyebrows. " _Oh_."

"And you made me a sandwich."

"Yes."

"Do you want to?" Liam asked, still bright red.

"Feed the fish?"

"Stay over," Liam said, quickly. "We'd have to wash the sheets."

Louis slid his hand into Liam's. "We could take some over, and change them. Then we'd just need to change them back. Nobody would know." He paused. "You are asking me to have sex with you, right?"

"Yep," Liam said, staring straight ahead and nodding. "Yep."

"All right," Louis said. "Let's do that."

Liam swallowed, and started to unwrap his sandwich with one hand. 

Louis hooked his foot around Liam's. "This is going to be great." He picked up the pile of flashcards that Liam had stacked up next to him. "Eat your sandwich. I'm going to test you in a minute." He bit his lip, and then darted in to kiss Liam's mouth. "I love you."

Liam couldn't concentrate on his notes now anyway. Maybe it was true and he really did already know it all. So long as he knew enough to get an E, he'd be happy. That was a pass, and he'd take that. He curled his fingers into Louis' hair. "It's all sticky-up."

"It's my new style," Louis said, seriously. "I'm cultivating a quiff. I want to be the new Nick and Harry."

"Are they going out yet?" Louis had tried to badger Liam into going to the pub with everyone last night, but Liam had refused. Too close to his exam.

"According to Harry, they are now formally 'holding hands'. They're so ridiculous, honestly. I don't know who they think they're kidding."

"They're taking it slow," Liam said. "I think it's sweet."

"At this rate they won't shag until Harry's thirty-five. Or even later. We'll be pensioners, and they'll finally be at top-half only. Nick'll be dead by then anyway."

"He's not that old," Liam protested.

"I know. So, are you coming to Zayn and Perrie's coming out party tonight?"

"What?" Liam had literally no idea what Louis was talking about.

"You need to actually read texts that people send you, dickhead. They're finally going out. They're having a coming out party."

"But—they're not gay."

"Perrie says it isn't fair that we automatically assume people are straight without asking them, so her and Zayn are having a party to announce they're straight. Perrie and Jade are apparently round at Leigh-Anne's right now, making us all badges."

"We didn't have a party. Or badges. What are they putting on the badges?"

Louis narrowed his eyes conspiratorially and leaned in. He slid his hand over Liam's knee. "That was probably our first mistake, boy wonder." He grinned. "Do you want to have a coming out party? Because if it's an excuse to get pissed then I'm all for that. The badges are going to say _challenge heteronormativity_ , apparently."

"I don't even know what that means."

"Me either, but I think they'll probably tell us. A lot, if they're drunk. We should have a party."

Liam tried to smile, but he couldn't really think about anything other than his business studies exam. "Ask me after," he said. The sandwich was sitting like a heavy weight in his stomach. He felt sick. God, what if he was sick in the exam? That would be awful.

"Hey, stop that." Louis shook his head. "You're panicking, I can see it. Stop it, you're fucking brilliant, you don't need to panic." 

He wasn't, but he liked that Louis at least pretended he thought he was. "Please don't let me fail. God, what if I fail?"

"You _won't_." Louis ducked down and pressed a kiss to their joined hands. "For a start, you've got me to go through your flashcards with. And you've eaten something now, so that's the first thing Mum says you have to do before an exam. Have you got your bottle of water and your mints and your spare pens?"

Liam nodded over the lump in his throat. "What if I just skip it? What am I going to need business studies for, anyway?"

"Don't be silly." Louis frowned. "Come on. Eat your crisps. I'm going to test you now."

Liam was definitely going to be sick. Maybe. "Will you meet me after?"

"Are you kidding me? It's your last exam. I'm going to meet you right out of the door."

"I might need a hug." Liam couldn't help but feel miserable at the very idea of his exam, and his exam results. He'd always been rubbish in exams. It always seemed to take him forever to understand what the question was asking of him, and then by the time he'd got his ideas sorted out, there was barely any time left to get it all down. He'd never finished an exam early—he was always the one scribbling right until the last second. He couldn't understand getting it all done early. People who did that were like a different species. They had to be. Their brains had to be wired differently to Liam's. He wished he was better at stuff like this, and he wasn't such a mess. 

"You're going to do fine. Promise."

Liam doubted that, but he smiled anyway, even though his stomach felt like lead. "Test me then," he said, and pushed every thought of him and Louis having sex in his sister's bed to one side. He could think about that later, after his exam.

**TWENTY  
Louis.**

"So," Louis said, when he met Liam at the corner of the street where Nicola's flat was. "Happy we're-going-to-have-sex day."

Liam was sitting on the wall by the newsagent's on the corner, his rucksack by his feet, eating what looked like penny sweets out of a white paper bag. He had another paper bag on his lap, and he handed it over to Louis with a grin.

Louis looked inside. "You bought me sweets. Are these celebratory we're-having-sex-today sweets?"

Liam finished chewing on his sweet, and rolled his eyes. "Not everything today is about sex, Lou."

Louis didn't believe that for a second. He bit the head off a pink chocolate mouse. "I think you'll find it is, boyfriend. This morning I woke up and had an I'm-having-sex-todayshower, and then I had I'm-going-to-see-you-naked-today breakfast, and then I had a driving lesson where I tried not to think about sex at all in case I ran into a lamppost. But I'm back to thinking about sex now. In case you were wondering. Which you obviously were, because today is we're-going-to-have-sex day. Come on, what are we doing standing around?" He grabbed a fizzy cola bottle from his bag of sweets and obnoxiously bit the bottom off, showing Liam exactly what he was eating. 

"Oh my god," Liam said. "You're such a catch."

"Yes," Louis said patiently, "this is why you're going to have sex with me today. On we're-going-to-have-sex-day."

"Is that what you told your mum?" Liam started to pick up all of his stuff. God, he had, like, a _lot_ of stuff. There was his big rucksack, and an overflowing Aldi bag for life, a Tesco bag, and the pump bag he always brought his PE kit to school in. 

Louis cocked his head to one side. "Are we making sex up from scratch? From our own ingredients? How much stuff have you brought?"

Liam went red. "Shut up," he said. "I want it to be perfect."

Louis tried not to think about the last time, round the back of the cinema, and how it had ended. He shouldered his rucksack, and went to grab one of Liam's carrier bags. 

"I've got it," Liam said. 

"Yes," Louis said. "I can see that. But if you let me carry one, then you can also hold my hand, which was my secret, underhanded plan all along. Which you ruined, by the way."

Liam blushed a bit more, and handed over the Tesco bag. He held out his hand. 

Louis slid his hand into Liam's and squeezed. He still wasn't very good at this—the going out in public where there were people they didn't know and could see them part—but he was better at hiding the fact that it still scared him. They had been going out a few weeks, anyway, so it was about time he got better at being gay in public. They'd even had an anniversary by now, a whole month, and Louis had taken Liam out for a McDonald's, and treated him to an extra-value meal. They'd sat at the back upstairs and held hands under the table and Louis had been happier than he'd been in just about forever, so he was counting it as a win. 

"What did you tell your mum?" Liam asked again. 

Louis shrugged. "That I was staying over with you." He rolled his eyes. "I think she just assumed it would be at yours, with your mum and dad there. If I'd have told her the truth, she'd have just quizzed me on that sex and relationships book she bought me. It's bad enough she bought it in the first place; the last thing either of us need is having an in-depth discussion about where I might like to put my penis. She would probably want me to practice putting a condom on a banana. I know she's trying, and my mum's brilliant, but I could do without any conversation where my dick is the main topic."

"Um," Liam managed, in a high-pitched kind of a voice. 

"I think she might have known, though. She asked if I'd washed behind my ears."

"And have you?"

"Probably not." Louis swung their joined hands. "Okay, so you can't laugh at me for this, but have you ever actually put a condom on? Because I'm just warning you, I might fuck this up."

"Only in year ten PSHE, but that was the lesson where Niall blew them up and wore them as earrings, remember?"

"That was fucking sick, I loved that lesson. Do you remember when Mrs Malone went crazy and sent Harry out into the corridor?"

"And it was you and Niall and Zayn all along. Harry was well pissed off."

"Harry never does anything wrong." Louis grinned. "Which number does Nicola live at, anyway?"

"Twenty four. Upstairs flat." Liam said. He chewed on his lip. "Lou—what if it isn't just the condom. What if we just like, totally screw this up? What if we're like, incompatible in bed?"

Louis was busy counting the numbers on the front doors. _Eighteen, twenty_. "Are you going to think badly of me if it turns out I give the worst blowjobs in history? Not that I'm planning to, mind. I'm going to be brilliant. But, like, hypothetically? If the world turns upside down and for whatever reason, I'm shit at blowjobs? Would you dump me?"

"Um, no?"

"Well then," Louis said, pushing open the gate to number twenty-four. "Stop worrying. Anyway, if you think I haven't been wanking off to the thought of this since you suggested it, then you've got another think coming."

"Oh god," Liam said. "I love you."

Louis went red at that. He bumped his elbow into Liam's. "Get the key out, come on. Get a wriggle on."

"Someone's excited."

"Yeah, baby." Louis slid his hand around Liam's waist as he fumbled with the Yale lock. Right now he didn't care if anyone saw him. He had a boyfriend, and his boyfriend was brilliant, and his boyfriend _loved him_. He hooked his chin over Liam's shoulder. The key wouldn't turn in the lock. "Try turning it the other way."

It took them another minute to find the right key for the front door, and then another minute to get all the bags upstairs and into the hall. Louis dumped his rucksack on the floor and pushed Liam up against the wall. "Can we do it now?"

" _No_ ," Liam said. "God, did you have like, a gallon of caffeine this morning? It's like you're running on fast forward."

"Maybe," Louis hedged his bets. "There might have been a bit of coffee. Why can't we have sex now? It's having sex day, Liam." He didn't stamp his foot, but it was a close run thing. God, he wanted this. He just wanted to push Liam down onto the sheets and kiss him all over. He wanted Liam's dick in his mouth. He wanted to make him come. He wanted to snog him until they fell asleep.

"Everything's going to be perfect," Liam said, picking up the bags and going into the kitchen. Nicola liked pink. All the utensils were pink, and the kettle was pink, and the front of the fridge was covered in photos and pictures held up by pink magnets. "I've got a plan, and it's going to be _perfect_ , so stop rushing things."

"Just one snog, then." Louis liked the idea of perfect. He liked the idea of Liam, full stop. He poked at the bag on the counter. "What's in here?"

Liam leaned over and pressed his mouth to Louis'. "Dinner," he said. "And breakfast. Stop peeping. Give over, go and find something to watch on the telly."

"This is not how I imagined having-sex-day going, Liam." Louis faked a pout. It was better. He hadn't even thought about food. If pushed, he would have imagined eating whatever was in Nicola's fridge. He went out to take a look at Nicola's bedroom. There was a lot of pink in there too: pink duvet, pink lampshade, pink laundry basket by the door. "Where are these fish we're supposed to be feeding, anyway?"

"Living room," Liam said. "She said she'd leave instructions."

"You want me to do anything?" Louis called over his shoulder. He knew he was being a bit of a knob. He was nervous, was all. 

"Watch the telly," Liam said, popping his head around the living room door as Louis sank down onto the sofa and started reading the instructions Nicola had left on the coffee table for them, in big curly writing. She made the same kinds of spelling mistakes as Liam did, so it was easy to decode. "Seriously. I'm going to put everything away and change the sheets and everything." He went red at that. Louis kicked off his shoes and put his feet on the coffee table. "Get everything sorted, you know."

"I love you, Liam Payne," Louis shouted after him. He tipped his head back and bit his lip. God, he did. He really, really did. 

It took Liam another twenty-five minutes before Louis was allowed out of the living room. He'd watched half an old episode of Top Gear on Dave, renamed all of Nicola's fish, and drawn pictures of them on the back of Nicola's instructions to let her know that they'd been looked after adequately by the time Liam stuck his head back round the door and said he was done. 

Louis smiled at that. His heart was thumping. "Where do you want me?"

"There's good," Liam said. "Do you want a glass of wine?"

"You brought wine?"

Liam went red again. "Course I did. I wanted it to be perfect."

Louis nodded. "Well, then, yes. Are you having any?" 

"I'll have a glass." When Liam went into the kitchen, Louis got his phone out to text his mum. _Staying with liam tonight. Just me and him. I love him and he loves me and it's going to be perfect._ He didn't press send; he looked down at the screen instead, his heartbeat loud in his ears. 

Liam came back with two glasses of red wine. He handed Louis one, and then sat down on the sofa next to him, one knee drawn up to his chest. "What are you doing?"

Louis passed him the phone, and took a gulp of his wine. 

Liam swallowed, and nodded. "You going to send it?"

"I don't know." He put his phone down on the table, and shifted on the sofa so that he was sitting facing Liam. He poked at Liam's thigh with his toes. "I don't want to think about my mum right now. I just want to think about you, and how fucking great you are."

Liam switched position too, sliding his feet in between Louis'. 

Louis reached for his hand, and laced his fingers with Liam's. "I can't believe you bought wine."

"Yep. Well. I got Nick to buy us wine. They always ID me in shops, so I got Nick to drive me."

"You've thought of everything," Louis said. "I feel like a twat, because I just brought me. And a toothbrush. And some condoms."

"I told you I was sorting everything. And I was."

Louis leaned down to kiss their joined hands. "Next time, I'm going to fix everything. It's going to be my turn to make you feel perfect."

Liam blushed at that. "It wasn't anything."

"Shut up," Louis said, rolling his eyes, "and let me kiss you."

Liam deposited both of their glasses of wine on the coffee table, and then Louis leaned in, and cupped Liam's face in his hand. 

"There is literally nobody in the world I'd rather be with than you. And I'm going to keep telling you that until I've apologised properly for being such a knob jockey before we got together."

"You've said sorry a million times. Just shut up and kiss me, dickhead."

"Romantic," Louis said, and then he closed the distance between them and kissed him, soft and slow. He tasted a little bit like wine, and a little bit like penny sweets, and a lot like Liam. Louis followed the taste with his tongue, Liam's hands coming down to curl around Louis' biceps. He was nervous about what was to follow, but he wasn't scared about being with Liam. Everything had changed in the last couple of months. His mum was great, his sisters were cool, and his dad was sort of all right in a vaguely confused and not quite happy but getting there kind of a way. He'd even told the kids next door that he'd only play footie with them if he could bring his boyfriend, and there had turned out to be a difference between how they used the word gay, and how they dealt with a next door neighbour with a boyfriend. Not that it mattered, because Louis wasn't going to forget the sting of hearing, _you're so gay_ as an insult over and over again. 

Louis wasn't stupid. He knew that being with Liam, and going out with Liam, and everyone knowing he was going out with Liam wasn't going to fix all the things in his head that still needed straightening out. But he really was getting there, and his mum was doggedly determined to make him feel like being gay was more than good, it was _great_ , and—okay—that was really, really annoying. Sometimes he just wanted a bowl of cornflakes and a cup of tea, he didn't want to talk about how the fact he liked dick was impacting his life. But he couldn't pretend that his mum talking about Louis' boyfriend all the time hadn't made it much easier for his sisters to get their heads around. 

"You all right?" Liam asked. He reached for their wine again, handing Louis his glass.

Louis took a drink and then passed it back. "Yeah," he said. "I'm more than all right." He reached for his phone and pressed send on the draft text message to his mum, and then turned his attention back to Liam. "Have you got a plan, for how tonight's going to go?"

"Kind of. A bit."

"And this is step one? Snogging on the sofa?"

"This is exactly step one," Liam agreed, and he shifted position again, so that his knees were either side of Louis' hips, and he was sitting in between Louis' legs, Louis' feet hooked over Liam's thighs. He leaned in to rub his nose against Louis'. "We're taking it slow. Really slow."

Anticipation rolled in Louis' stomach. "Yeah," he said, curling his fingers into Liam's shirt, drawing him in even closer. "Sounds right to me."

"Good," Liam said, and kissed him again. 

They stayed on the sofa for what felt like forever, Liam kissing him soft and slow and not urgent at all. Louis ended up echoing his pace, in the end, and even though he was a little bit hard, and they'd finished their glasses of wine, and Liam's mouth was kissed all red and wet, Louis didn't feel like rushing them to the next stage. 

"Your hair's all sticking up," Liam told him. 

"That's your fault," Louis said. "You keep playing with it."

"I like your hair." Liam kissed him again. 

"Well, I like yours." Louis ran his fingers through Liam's curls. "Do you remember when you used to straighten it?"

"Everyone was doing it," Liam said quickly, flushing a bit.

"I used to think yours looked better than everyone else's," Louis confided. "You know, back when I was pretending that fancying you was just like, really manly, heterosexual appreciation, you know."

"Ah, yes."

"This one time, okay, and don't laugh, but I totally had a wank thinking about how great it would be to be as like, toned and muscled as you and stuff. This was back when you were boxing all the time. You had the most amazing arms." He ran his hands over Liam's biceps anyway. They were pretty perfect now, too. 

"Totally heterosexual," Liam agreed. He still looked a bit flushed. "You really wanked over me?"

"I told you, I fancied you for ages. In a heterosexual way, obviously. I wasn't gay."

"Well, no." 

Louis was trying not to look, but he could see the curve of Liam's erection through his jeans. His mouth went all dry. "I'm gay now," he said. 

"Yes. Good. Today would be a bit of a ball-ache if you weren't." 

Louis laughed. Fuck, he loved him. "Look, I know you've got a plan for this and everything, but when does it get to the bit where I can take your t-shirt off?"

"Funny you should mention that," Liam said. He slid his hand into Louis'. "Are you going to let me take you to bed, Mr Tomlinson?"

"Well, it is we're-going-to-have-sex day." He shrugged a shoulder, trying not to show how nervous and turned on he was. "Seems like a good plan."

"Good." Liam clambered to his feet, still holding on to Louis' hand. He led him out into the hall, and then into the bedroom, stopping short in the doorway. 

"Oh, god," Louis said. The room wasn't pink any more. The laundry basket had gone, for a start, and so had the pink bedding. Liam had changed the sheets, and the duvet was a faded blue checked pattern that had seen better days. All along the top of the drawers by the door and on the bedside table were little tealights, still unlit, and there were flowers on the windowsill that definitely hadn't been there before. 

"It's probably really silly," Liam was bright red. "And you probably think it's like, really girly or something. But, like—I thought about what I'd want someone to do for me, and what I'd like, and—do you hate it?"

Hate it? Louis couldn't speak. "You idiot," he said, over the lump in his throat. "You total idiot. How could you think for one second that I'd hate it? I love it, you dickhead."

"There's chocolate too. Well. Pink chocolate mice. I meant to get proper ones, like posh ones or something, but I ran out of money. I wanted it all to be perfect after last time."

Louis wrapped his arms around Liam's neck and held on. "You're so great," he said, mouth pressed to Liam's throat. "You're the greatest great thing to ever great, and I love you, and—" he kissed Liam's jaw, "—can I take your clothes off now?"

Liam nodded jerkily. "Yeah," he said. "We can do that now."

"Good," Louis said, and he reached for the hem of Liam's shirt and pulled it up and over his head. He wasn't messing about. He would quite happily take all the time in the world to have sex, so long as he didn't have to wait another single minute to see Liam undressed. 

But, oh god, Liam's chest. Louis closed his eyes and rubbed his cheek against Liam's shoulder. His skin was pale and warm and a little freckled, close up. He fumbled with Liam's belt buckle with one hand, all fingers and thumbs. 

Liam helped him in the end, getting the buckle undone and undoing the top button of his jeans. 

"What about you?" Liam said, and he plucked at Louis' t-shirt with his thumb and first finger. 

Louis grinned, and tried to take it off, but Liam stopped him, hand to his wrist. 

"Let me," he said, and then he leaned in and kissed the inside of Louis' wrist. Louis shivered at Liam's gentle touch, and then made a sort of whining noise that he hadn't ever heard himself make before, as Liam licked at his skin. He pushed Louis' shirt up with his other hand, and Louis obediently put his hands up in the air as Liam helped take it off. 

They were there, topless in the Saturday afternoon warmth, Liam's belt undone and his top button open, and Louis couldn't help but reach over and finish unbuttoning his flies. He could feel Liam's dick pressing up against the cotton of his pants as he undid his jeans. Liam pushed them down to his thighs, and then further down to his knees, until he was kicking them off his ankles and onto the carpet, reaching down to take off his socks. Louis followed suit, not waiting for Liam to undress him back. He stepped out of his jeans, and out of his socks, and then there was just them, in their pants, in Nicola's bedroom. 

Neither of them moved, and then Liam held his hand out, and Louis stepped into his arms, one hand in Liam's hair, the other stroking over the warmth of his back. Louis pressed his mouth to Liam's and kissed him. He kept shivering as Liam ran his hands over Louis' skin, desperately intimate even though they still weren't naked and they were only kissing. Surely this part wasn't supposed to be the sexy part? That was the bit on the bed with sweat and orgasms, surely. 

"I want to touch you everywhere," Liam told him, pressing his mouth to Louis' cheek, his jaw, and under his ear. 

"Right back at you." Louis could feel Liam's erection pressed up against his. He could barely even think straight, and they hadn't even got to the sex part yet. This didn't count. Surely this didn't count. 

It felt like it counted. 

"Get on the bed, then." Liam went over to the drawers and picked up a lighter, going along and lighting each of the tealights in turn. 

Louis swallowed, and took off his underwear, and went to the bed to turn down the duvet. His dick was hard, and he forced himself not to touch it, even though he wanted to. He lay down instead, one hand behind his head, and waited for Liam to finish with the candles. They looked really nice. 

He was trembling with nerves. This was it. It didn't matter that they'd already had some kind of sex round the back of the cinema. This time felt like the first time. 

Liam turned back round, got an eyeful of Louis' dick, blushed, and pushed down his pants. 

And—oh god—that was Liam's dick. It wasn't like Louis hadn't had his hand wrapped around it already, but he didn't remember it looking like this. Hard, and flushed across the head, and so, so hot. 

"Come here," Louis said, and his voice caught as Liam did just that, crawling up the bed until he was kneeling over him, hands to the pillows either side of Louis' head. 

Liam swallowed, ducked his head, and covered Louis' mouth with his own. Louis slid his hands over Liam's back, and down to his arse, and this part was so new. Touching someone there was _new_. Liam groaned, pushing back against Louis' hands, and kissed him again. 

Every time Louis tried to pull him down so that he'd be on top of him, Liam just shook his head. "We're taking this slow," he said, and he wore a fierce, concentrating look on his face that Louis couldn't say no to, especially when Liam ducked down and took Louis' nipple in his mouth. 

"Jesus Christ," Louis managed succinctly, arms wrapping around Liam's shoulders as Liam mouthed at his skin. That felt—that went straight to his dick. His dick, that Liam wasn't paying attention to. He'd be pissed off if it wasn't for the whole nipple thing. And the whole Liam thing, since he was broader than Louis had noticed, and was all shoulders and biceps and stomach muscles and warm, warm skin. He ran his palms over Liam's arms, feeling the rough hair beneath his fingertips. 

"You're sensitive," Liam said, shifting his attention to Louis' other nipple.

"Apparently," Louis said. "Are you?" He rolled Liam onto his back, so he could rub his nose over Liam's chest and run his tongue over Liam's nipple. 

"Not as much as you, clearly," Liam tipped his head back on the pillows, and Louis pressed a trail of kisses down past his nipples, into the hollow in the centre of his chest, along the line of hair that went down to his belly button and beyond. 

"You're really beautiful, you know," Louis told him, fingertips pressing into Liam's hips. 

Liam flushed at that. "Don't," he said. 

"Don't what? Tell you the truth? You're so fucking hot, Liam. And look at you." Louis could look anywhere, at the length of him, pale-skinned and laid out beneath him. At his dick, leaking at the tip and bumping up against his stomach, so turned on. Emboldened, Louis touched the flat of his hand to the length of Liam's dick, fingertips stroking his balls. "Look at you," he said again. His mouth was so, so dry. 

He ducked his head, and took the tip of Liam's dick into his mouth. He licked at the slit, at the hot, musky scent of Liam's pre-come. He breathed out, and slid his mouth off. 

Liam was so still, his hands bunched in the sheets, his skin pink. "Fuck."

"You taste—" Louis couldn't begin to describe it. He didn't know what to compare it to. He crawled back up the bed and pressed his mouth to Liam's. "That's what you taste like," he said, in between kisses, and Liam whined. 

"Fuck, Lou."

Louis splayed his fingers over Liam's shoulder. "I love you," he said. If he said it enough, it had to start making up for everything that had come before. Sometimes he thought back to Harry telling him he'd found Liam crying in the bus stop, or he remembered the look on Liam's face as Louis had pretended they hadn't had sex whilst the others were watching Iron Man 3, and he felt actually, physically sick. 

Liam kissed him, and it was like he was chasing the taste of himself on Louis' tongue, and that was hotter than it should have been, it really was. "Can I see what you taste like?" he asked, in between kisses, and Louis couldn't exactly remember what vowels were at the mental image of Liam with Louis' dick in his mouth, so he just nodded instead. Liam flipped them over—and Louis _loved_ how strong Liam sometimes demonstrated himself to be—and bent down to slide his mouth down over Louis' dick. 

"Oh," Louis gasped, because Liam's mouth was—and his _tongue_ , and the way he was looking up at Louis from under those dark, dark eyelashes, his mouth stretched around the head of Louis' dick. 

Liam stayed where he was, tongue pressed against Louis' slit, and Louis could feel need skittering over his skin in tiny flashes of desperate, electric want. 

"Can I blow you?" Liam asked. His lips were all wet from where he'd had his mouth around Louis' dick. Louis wasn't going to forget that in a hurry. "Properly?"

"Yes, god." Louis tried to swallow. "Please, yes."

Then Liam was bending down again, and pressing little kisses to the length of Louis' dick, and Louis tried to keep quiet, and he tried to keep still, but he just _couldn't_. Because it tickled, and it was so, _so_ hot, and because every time he looked down, Liam's mouth was on his cock, and his hand was wrapped around the base, holding him. There was that feeling again, the one he didn't understand why he needed, the one where Liam made him feel _safe_. 

And didn't it feel good. 

Watching Liam go down on him was probably up there with the best things he'd ever seen in his life, all things considered. Louis could see the outline of his dick pressed up against the inside of Liam's cheek, and everything was so hot, and so wet, and he was getting an actual, in real life blowjob from someone. And it wasn't a dream, and the someone was _Liam._ Louis groaned out loud, catching his fingertips in Liam's hair, and when he accidentally pulled it, Liam made a sharp, humming kind of a noise that just made everything even better. 

"Feels so good, Li." Louis was probably babbling. He couldn't even tell any more. Liam was moving his hand at the base of Louis' dick, too, and his other hand was splayed across Louis' thigh, and it felt like he was being touched _everywhere._ Then Liam shifted his hand from Louis' thigh to touch his balls—to _tickle_ , really, that fucking bastard. Oh god, oh _god_ , and suddenly his orgasm was right there, crowding up on him like a wave, and there wasn't any time to warn Liam. There wasn't any time for anything, other than for Louis to buck his hips up into Liam's mouth, and tighten his grip in Liam's hair—probably hurting him, but Louis couldn't help himself, couldn't do otherwise—and then he was coming. He was coming, in Liam's mouth, and he was sweating, and his vision felt like it was white at the edges. 

Liam pulled off him, and then reached down the side of the bed for a box of tissues—newly opened, because even though the cardboard oval had gone, Liam had to poke at the cellophane to get a tissue to pull through—and then he was spitting into it, and wiping his mouth. 

"Nice tissues," Louis voice sounded croaky and rough. Anyone would think he'd given the blowjob, and not Liam. 

"Autumnal shades," Liam said. "I wanted to be prepared."

Louis couldn't stop staring at his mouth. "Like a scout. They're prepared."

"Yeah, but I hated scouts. And I was rubbish at it." He crawled up the bed and curled up on the pillows next to Louis. "I wasn't rubbish at that, was I?"

Louis still felt a bit hazy, and quite a lot floaty from his orgasm. "I think you were brilliant, actually. Like, totally brilliant." He narrowed his eyes. "You were never a rubbish scout. You were born to be a scout. How come you never told me you hated it? Didn't you go for years?"

Liam shrugged. He was trailing his fingers over Louis' nipple, and okay, that felt really nice, and his whole body felt really over-sensitive as it was without Liam touching him there, where it turned out he was really sensitive anyway. He wriggled a bit under Liam's fingers. His whole body felt lazy and heavy and like moving ever again was going to be way too soon. "None of you lot were there."

"That's because if I'd tried to be a scout, within like, five days there would have been giant BANNED posters over every scout hut in the country with my face on them. Zayn would be hanging out the back window having a fag, Niall would be over the road chatting up the guides, and Harry would be—well, he'd probably be all right at it. Whatever. I knew it wasn't for me when some dickhead yelled at me in the cubs because my woggle wasn't straight. Who the fuck cares about a woggle?"

"It's important," Liam said. 

"See, this is why you were the perfect scout. You should have loved scouts. You understand woggles. Why did you hate it?"

Liam shrugged again. "No reason."

Louis narrowed his eyes. "What aren't you telling me?" 

"It was fine. I just, I didn't know anyone, and it would have been more fun if you lot were there, so in the end I left. Not a big deal."

"Were people shits to you?" Louis rolled over onto his side. "Are there people you need me to go and beat up, because I'll do it." Except Liam was naked, and here, and hard, and Louis found himself focusing less and less on Liam's scouting endeavours and more on Liam's dick, which was being very scouting-friendly and standing to attention. He had to forget he ever thought that, Christ. 

"I just wasn't friends with them," Liam was being evasive. "Oh, I meant to clean you up. I brought flannels and everything. Do you want me to get you a flannel? I put them in the bathroom. I could wet one for you."

"You've brought what?" 

"Flannels. In case you wanted to like, I don't know, wipe yourself down or something."

"I think I'm probably all right," Louis said, since he'd never really had a wank and thought, _you know how this experience could be made better? A damp flannel_. Liam was looking a little downcast, though. "You, however. I think it's possible you're made of magic."

Liam ducked his head at that. 

Louis slid his knee in between Liam's legs. It felt weird, being this close to another naked person. It felt weird to have Liam's bare leg against his. He slid his hand into Liam's hair. "I want to make you come," he said, his mouth brushing Liam's forehead. "Tell me how you want it."

"I don't know," Liam said. "I'm totally new to this."

"It's a good thing we've got each other to learn on, then," Louis went on, kissing Liam's temple, his cheek, and then his nose. He rolled Liam onto his back, and stroked his hands down Liam's chest. "Is it weird that I just want to touch you everywhere? Because I do. Like, everywhere." He sat up, and touched the crook of his finger to Liam's armpit. "Like, here. Is that weird?"

Liam laughed at that, and obediently put his arm above his head, so that Louis touch him a little easier. "It's a bit weird. But I want to touch you everywhere too, so we're probably even."

"Well, you have to wait, because it's my turn." Louis brushed Liam's hand away, so that he wasn't covering his chest with his forearm any more. "Stop covering yourself up, I'm exploring."

He ducked his head and pressed his mouth to the pale skin on Liam's inner arm. Liam groaned, and Louis grinned and did it again. 

"I want to find out all the places that make you do that," he said, shifting so that he could run his tongue down Liam's side, over his rib cage and down to his hip. "God, you're hot."

"Well, obviously." Liam sounded a bit stilted, though, biting his lip as Louis looked up at him from where he was pressing his mouth to Liam's hip. 

Louis laughed, and tried kissing the inside of Liam's knee, then down to his ankle and over his instep. Liam groaned at all of them, low and rough. If Louis could just touch him everywhere, for hours—it still wouldn't be enough. He ran his hands down over Liam's thighs, and then up again to his hips, thumbs stroking. 

"Lou, fuck. Stop teasing me."

"All right. What do you want?" He could always touch later, anyway. 

"I seriously don't care, but like—a hand job? Or blow me. I'm so close anyway, I don't think it matters."

"It matters to me," Louis said, kneeling over Liam's thighs, pinning him down. "Which do you want? We can go again later. We've got until tomorrow. We can just do it all anyway. We've got condoms, we can try fucking later."

Liam groaned at that, ragged and long, his hips rolling up. "Fuck. Just, I don't know. Do you want to go down on me?"

Louis couldn't remember wanting anything in the world more. "Is it a day that ends in a Y?" He was doing his best to hide his nerves, especially as he didn't exactly like being crap at stuff. _Fake it 'til you make it_ , that's all he had to remember. That, and Liam loved him. How wrong could it go? He ducked his head, and touched at Liam's balls with the crook of his finger. He'd never—he'd never touched anyone else's balls but his own before. He didn't think he'd touched Liam's when they were round the back of the cinema. He couldn't really remember. He crouched down. "Balls look really weird from underneath."

"Not really the point," Liam managed, his hips rocking up as Louis continued to stroke at his balls. "They're weird-looking anyway, they're _balls_."

"I've never seen them from this angle," Louis went on, only partly because balls really were the weirdest thing on the planet, and mostly because watching Liam go breathless and pink-cheeked like this was really fucking hot. He cupped them in his hand, and stroked his thumb over Liam's fuzzy pubic hair. 

Liam whined. Like, actually whined. 

Louis did it again, because it seemed like that was what the universe was asking for, and was gratified to see Liam's hand fist in the sheets. "You like that."

"Louis, _please_."

Louis wrapped his hand around the base of Liam's cock, like Liam had done to him earlier, and ducked down to take it in his mouth. It was wider, and broader, and heavier against his tongue than he'd imagined it being—like Liam in general, that—and Liam couldn't keep still. He kept rolling his hips up, and his dick kept bumping into the back of Louis' throat, and it was all Louis could do to keep from gagging. His eyes were watering. He couldn't remember how to breathe, and everything was awful, and then—then he shifted back a bit, so that Liam wasn't hitting the back of his throat, and he wasn't taking so much of him in. Liam kept making these noises, these tight, bitten off sounds that kept catching in his throat, and Louis just wanted him to keep on making those noises forever. Then Liam's hand curled in his hair, and Liam's breathing was getting all ragged, and desperate. 

He was going down on his boyfriend, and he was going to make Liam _come_ , and it was enough for him to start getting hard again, his dick showing a vague interest in getting another go. He ignored it in favour of getting Liam off. 

All he could taste was Liam, musky, hot and turned-on. It crept along his tongue and in his nose and at the back of his throat. Nobody had ever told him that sex had a _smell_ , and that the smell was amazing, and hot. So, so hot. 

"Lou— _Louis_ ," Liam gasped, and Louis knew he was close. So close. 

He re-doubled his efforts, knowing he was probably going red in the face. He'd never learnt how to breathe around a dick. He was going to have to practice. He shifted back a bit again, until he just had the head of Liam's dick in his mouth, and he could lick at the tip, and wank him off with his other hand. He seriously needed to practice this, but Liam didn't look like he was complaining. 

Louis twisted his hand, just a little, just the way he liked it on himself, and Liam groaned out something that sounded like a warning, and then he started to come. Liam was coming in Louis' mouth, and the taste was everywhere, overpowering and strong and so, so good. He couldn't keep it all in his mouth, and he tried to catch it in his hand as he sat back on his heels, before spitting into one of the tissues from Liam's box of Autumnal Shades. 

Liam lifted his head from the pillow. He was pink-cheeked and flushed. 

Louis spat into another tissue and dumped it on the floor by the bed. They had to remember to pick those up. Some kind of welcome home present for Nicola: the regurgitated remains of her little brother's come in a tissue on her bedroom floor. Sexy. 

"Come up here," Liam said, holding his hand out. 

"We have to remember to pick those up," Louis said, pointing over the side of the bed. "We really, really have to remember to pick those up."

"We'll remember," Liam said. "I wrote a list of things to do before we left. That's on it."

"Really?" Louis plonked himself down next to Liam, and drew a heart with his fingertip around Liam's belly button as he pressed himself to Liam's side. "How did you word that, exactly? Pick up come tissues?"

"I wrote, _check for tissues and other rubbish_." Liam covered Louis' hand with his own. It made Louis feel warm inside, right down to his toes. 

Louis shivered, and shuffled even closer. "Nice turn of phrase that." He kissed Liam's cheek. "You all right?"

Liam smiled at that. "I don't know. Is there a better word than perfect? Because that, if you can think of one."

Louis wrapped an arm around Liam's chest, and rested his cheek against Liam's shoulder. He tucked his foot in between Liam's. "Perfect's about right, I think. Spot on, maybe."

"Dead good," Liam said, kissing the top of his head. Louis stroked his thumb over Liam's nipple.

"Smashing," Louis suggested.

"Brilliant."

"Cracking."

Liam laughed at that, wrapping his arms around Louis' back and holding on. "I love you."

"Course you do," Louis said, closing his eyes. "Why wouldn't you?"

\--/--

When Louis woke up from his nap, Liam was gone.

He stretched out lazily on the sheets, arms above his head, and called out, "where are you?"

"Kitchen," Liam called back. 

Louis stumbled out of bed and into the hall, not stopping for pants as he wandered after the sound of Liam's voice. He rubbed his eyes as he stopped in the kitchen doorway. "What are you doing?"

Liam was standing by the counter in his underwear, laboriously chopping an onion up. "Making us some tea," he said. "I didn't know what to get so I'm making spaghetti bolognese. You like spag bol, right?"

There was an odd, tight feeling in Louis' chest that he didn't quite recognise. His heart felt full. He went over and wrapped an around Liam's waist from behind and pressed his mouth to the back of Liam's neck. "You're cooking for me?"

"Of course," Liam sounded awkward. "Except it's not really cooking, it's just an onion and some mince and a jar of sauce. It might not even be that nice. It was on offer in Aldi, it was only seventy-five pence."

Louis ran his hands over Liam's back, over his shoulders, and down over his spine, marking out the ridges with his fingertips. Whenever Liam moved, his muscles flexed, and Louis wanted to learn it all, every pathway across his skin. Meeting Liam had been the best day ever. "Do you remember in year seven, when we were building those bridges with Mrs Gomersall? And she put you in our group, and none of us knew you?"

"I hated year seven," Liam said. "Well, until then, anyway."

"I don't remember you before that day. You were there, weren't you? You didn't just magically appear that day out of nowhere. What did you do with yourself?"

Liam shrugged. "Dunno. Hid in the toilets, mostly."

Louis closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead to Liam's shoulder. "Was it awful, coming to secondary when all your friends had gone somewhere else?"

"No idea," Liam said. "Didn't have any friends at primary."

Louis let out a breath. He'd known that, objectively. He'd picked enough up over the years to know that, but Liam had never actually talked about it. 

"Do you remember when you all came over for tea for the first time?" Liam said, making a right hash of chopping up the onion. All the bits were different sizes. "We played footy in my back garden and my mum made us all sandwiches?"

"Think so. That was ages and ages ago."

"My mum cried when you all left. She didn't think I could hear her."

Louis wasn't that far from crying himself. God, _Liam_. "Why'd she cry?"

"Dunno. Think she was relieved I wasn't a total fuck-up. I'd never had any friends before."

Louis made Liam put down the knife, and turned him around so that he could hug him, harder than he'd ever hugged him before. "Meeting you was the best day of my life," he said fiercely. "That's what I was going to say. Before. And anyone who doesn't appreciate that you are pretty much the greatest human on this planet is going to have me to answer to. I am personally going to go out there and tell every single person I meet how brilliant you are. And I'm going to punch anyone who doesn't think so."

Liam laughed a bit at that, but he still felt rigid in Louis' arms. "Do we have to talk about how rubbish I am? Honestly, it's fine. I'm well over that now."

Louis shook his head. "You're not rubbish. You're never rubbish." He hadn't meant to open this can of worms. He'd just wanted to tell Liam that meeting him was the best day of his life. He didn't know how to make Liam look less sad. "You know that we all think you're brilliant, right? And it's not just me that thinks making friends with you was the best thing we ever did. Zayn and Niall and Harry think it too. We all think you're brilliant."

Liam had gone a bit pink. "You're the best mates ever," he said. 

"Yes," Louis said. "And you're the best boyfriend ever, which was what I was trying to say before we got side-tracked into crap people."

"It's only spag bol."

" _It's only spag bol_ ," Louis parroted. "It's not just spag bol, you idiot. It's candles, and plans, and the fact that you're so fucking hot, and perfect, and I'm so in love with you that sometimes I can't see straight. And you make me feel so—" he wanted to say _safe_ , but that was weird. It was weird, and it was a secret, but Liam had just let Louis into his secrets, so maybe it was time for an exchange. "You make me feel safe. Like, I never knew that I wanted that so much, but you've got all these shoulders and arms and stuff, and you hug me and it makes me feel—I don't know how to describe this. I haven't got the words. You make me feel safe, and loved, and I want that so much, you have no idea." He was babbling, he knew he was, but it was important. It was important that Liam knew how much he was valued, and appreciated, but Louis didn't know how to get what was inside his head out into actual words. "You look after me, and I never knew—I didn't know that that was a thing you could want. But you're always so gentle, and—this is weird, right? This is weird shit I'm telling you. I shouldn't want any of this."

Liam cupped Louis' face in his hands. He smelled a bit like onions. Louis supposed he should be turned off by that, but he wasn't. Liam had such great hands, even if Louis was babbling like an idiot about how safe Liam made him feel. God, he was a weirdo.

"How does this make you feel?" Liam asked him, thumbs stroking Louis' face. 

Louis closed his eyes, and curled his hand around one of Liam's wrists. "Safe," he said softly. "Loved." There was only Liam, anyway. No one else had to know. 

"What about this?" Liam asked, leaning in to brush a kiss against Louis' mouth. 

Louis shivered, right down to his toes. "Same," he said. His dick was already perking up and paying attention. Liam could turn him on just by touching him; this was _insane_. Also, he was naked in the kitchen, which felt a bit like being naked outside. The most he could manage at home was wandering between the bathroom and the bedroom in just a towel. It was all a bit grown up. Grown up, and loved. 

"You have no idea what it feels like to be able to do this to you," Liam said, touching him again. His hand slid down to rest on Louis' hip. "I don't think it's weird. It's definitely not weird if we both want it, anyway, and I like doing stuff that makes you feel like that, so you should probably stop calling it weird." He stroked his thumb over Louis' belly.

It made Louis want to drag him back into the bedroom and have sex again, right now. 

But, all the same. "I don't think guys are meant to crave stuff like this. Feeling _safe._ Wanting people to look after them. Not like I do. I don't think that's supposed to be sexy to people."

"I love you, but I think you've got things a bit fucked up in your head," Liam told him gently, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I think you've got to stop thinking about what you think people _should_ want, and just think about what you do want instead. Because you've got me, and I'm not going anywhere—probably ever, just so you know—and I might actually like some of the things you like too, so you shouldn't keep them secret. I like making you feel like this, anyway."

Louis flushed a bit at that. "But it's _weird_. I just like it a lot when you like, hug me tight and stuff. You've just got all these, like, shoulders." He waved his hands in the air helplessly. "Look at your shoulders. Those shoulders are amazing. And arms. Your arms are great. Who wouldn't want to be hugged by you. A lot. Hard." And maybe held down. He could really, really get behind being held down. Was that kinky? He didn't know. He didn't know anything. A lifetime of FHM and Zoo magazine hadn't prepared him for wanting his boyfriend to hold him. "Or maybe, like, hold me down or something. I don't even know, okay. I just blew you for the first time, I have no idea how to have sex."

"It was a really good first blow job."

Louis made a face. "I spat it all into a tissue. That wasn't cool."

"By that point I didn't really care what you were spitting out, just so you know. You'd just made me come." He swallowed. "You'd really want me to—you know—hold you down? You'd want that?"

"I literally have no clue what I'm doing," Louis said. "In my head that sounds like it would be great, but what if it's just a bit rubbish?"

Liam rolled his eyes. "How about we just like, I don't know, build up to it?" He leaned in to shut Louis up with a kiss. Louis appreciated the attention, and kissed him back. "Later on, after dinner, we could start by, um, would you let me—I'd like to fuck you, later on. If you'd let me. If you'd want that."

Louis knew that they'd been talking about something else, but he couldn't think of what. He could just think about Liam's dick, and him sliding it inside of Louis, and how that might feel, and how Liam would always, always look after him, and that just made Louis harder. 

He cupped the back of Liam's neck with his hand, and drew him in for a kiss. "Yes, please," he said. "But would you mind washing your hands first? You smell like onions."

Liam burst out laughing, cuffed Louis round the head, and got him to boil some water for the spaghetti. 

Louis kissed him on the cheek, and danced across the kitchen to fill the kettle.

\--/--

"So," Liam said, an hour or so later. They were back in the bedroom, Louis was sprawled across the sheets with an erection, and Liam was fumbling with the box of condoms. "We're going to do it, then?"

"Yep," Louis said. "You're going to fuck me." He could feel his pulse skittering across his skin. Dinner had been lovely, sitting at the table in the kitchen in their underwear, with spaghetti Bolognese and another glass of wine. Afterwards there had been chocolate mousses for dessert, and Liam had refused to let them back in the bedroom until he'd made them both a cup of tea and they'd both had a pink chocolate mouse. Louis had compromised by refusing to drink his tea until they'd both taken their pants off again, but then they'd both been naked in the hall drinking tea, which was its own level of surreal. 

Liam sat down on the bed next to him, holding out a single condom and a bottle of something that called itself _silky lubricant._ "What's silky about it, do you think?" he asked, passing it to Louis. 

"God knows." Louis had bought some lube with him too, but his wasn't silky. His was just whatever he could scoop off the shelf in Boots that didn't cost a fortune. "Have you ever, you know?" 

Liam looked confused. 

"Have you ever used it before? I've never, I've just—apparently people use it to wank off."

"Harry does," Liam said. "Oh god, don't ask me how I know that. No, I haven't seen him do it, don't look at me like that. He told me once, that's all. I think he told you too, but you were drunk. He was definitely drunk."

"Sounds about right." He looked over at the bottle Liam was holding. His had come in a tube, but this one was in a little pump action gel bottle. "Have you ever done anything like this before? You know, like—arse stuff."

Liam wrinkled his nose. "No? I mean, not really. Once, maybe. I kind of touched it a bit when I was wanking off once. It was—I liked it."

"But you didn't go back for more?"

"Well," Liam blushed a bit. "It was only yesterday, so."

Louis felt himself going a bright shade of pink as he thought about that for a moment. "Wow." He cleared his throat. "So, I'm behind, then."

"You could touch yourself now, if you wanted." Liam looked pink too. "And then I could take over."

"We are uniformly awful at this," Louis said. "Pass me that lube, go on." 

Liam passed him the lube, and Louis pumped some out onto his fingertips, and then rolled onto his side, facing Liam. Liam was chewing on his lip, and staring at Louis' hand, and then Louis was reaching behind himself, and tentatively sliding a lube-slicked finger over his hole. He stilled. The first touch was a little cool, and it made him want to rock his hips up a bit. He stroked his fingertip in a circle a little experimentally. He hadn't exactly spent a lot of time thinking about what pleasure there was to be had in arses—he liked the look of Liam's, obviously, and fucking couldn't be awful because people kept coming back for seconds and thirds and fourths, but he hadn't exactly considered that it would feel _good_. But it did, tiny flickers of pleasure darting across his skin as he stroked himself. He chewed on his lip, rocking his hips further up, wanting something but not knowing quite what. 

"God," Liam said. His skin was all flushed. "I can't believe I'm watching you touch yourself."

"Not sure this counts," Louis told him, letting out a long breath as a slow groan. "Well, this is something I'm going to do again."

"In front of me, hopefully," Liam held his hand out for the lube. "Can I—is it my turn?"

"We'll both do it," Louis didn't want to stop. Little frissons of heat were slowly finding their way through his body, tiny, slow lightning bolts of desire and need and want. 

Liam made them change position, Louis shifting into the centre of the bed, Liam spooning up behind him, the tip of his erection bumping into Louis' hip as they sorted themselves out. Then Liam slid his hand down, over the curve of Louis' arse, and Louis was holding his breath as Liam slowly, oh so slowly, rubbed his fingertip over Louis' hole. 

"Oh, fuck," Liam said, stroking a circle over Louis' skin, and Louis wanted to sink down into this and never let it end, to feel like this forever. He couldn't stop the way his hips were rocking, down into Liam's touch and then away, like he wanted _more_ , wanted Liam's touch to chase him, pin him down, take him. Louis hooked his finger around Liam's, and Liam leaned in to drop a kiss to Louis' shoulder. "Can I touch you more? Put my finger in?"

This was so, _so_ dirty. It should be gross, but it felt so good, and Louis couldn't help but press back, groaning as Liam just kept touching him. He gave up trying to touch himself, wiping his finger on his thigh and curving his hand around Liam's knee, behind him, keeping him close. "Please."

And Liam slipped the tip of his finger inside of Louis, and Louis didn't exactly see stars, but his world view was suddenly opened wide up, and he let out an embarrassingly loud groan. 

"Fuck," Liam said succinctly, and it was only the tip of his finger inside of Louis but it felt like so much more. Louis pressed back against him, wanting more, confused by the sensation, desperately turned on. How could he be this turned on by so little? 

"Feels so good," Louis managed. His breathing was already getting a little ragged. "Yeah, keep doing that. Don't ever stop."

"I'll just finger you forever," Liam might be trying to laugh but it came out a little strained, and he leaned in to bury his face in Louis' neck. He crooked his finger inside of him, and Louis shifted on the sheets, his hips bucking forward. 

"Christ. Don't stop, I mean it."

"I wouldn't." Liam kissed his neck. He mouthed at the juncture between Louis' shoulder and his throat, and Louis couldn't stop trembling, the hairs on his arms standing up on end. 

Louis reached behind him to slide his hand into Liam's hair, holding him close. It felt like the most intimate thing in the world, the two of them together like this, Liam inside of him in the tiniest way possible. "You'll have to tell me what you want," he said breathlessly. "What you've been thinking about so we can do that next."

"I've been thinking about this," Liam said, mouth still pressed to Louis' throat. "About being with you all weekend."

"Yeah, but that's not sexy." Louis couldn't stay still. He tried, but he couldn't, his toes curling in the sheets. He kicked the duvet off the end of the bed. 

"It is," Liam told him. "You're sexy. I just—I love you. I want to be with _you_. If you hadn't wanted to have sex this weekend I still would have found it sexy, you know? It's just you."

Louis tried to swallow down the lump in his throat. "You're my best friend," he said, which was probably weird because Liam had his finger in his arse, but it came closest to what he wanted to get across. 

Liam kissed his neck again, and Louis let his eyes flutter closed, whilst Liam fingered him open, slow and methodical and perfect. 

Of course, there was a bit of a palaver when it came to adding a second and a third finger, Louis complaining most fervently when Liam had to pull out to add more lube, Louis pressing his arse back and almost shoving Liam off the bed. But then Liam just rolled his eyes and made Louis lie on his front so he could finger him properly. 

Louis didn't go obediently, but he did reach behind him to lace his fingers into Liam's other hand, and that was just about the same thing. God, two fingers was so much better than one, and three was even better than two, and if he made his appreciation known by telling Liam over and over how good it felt, then he was counting it as a win. But fuck, he was so hard. He couldn't wait forever. He wanted _more_. 

"Fuck me," he begged. "I'm ready, come on."

"Are you sure?" Liam sounded nervous.

"So sure," Louis told him. "How are we doing this?"

"I want to see your face," Liam said immediately. "I mean—if that's okay with you. I looked on the internet for pictures and I liked the ones where they could look at each other best."

Louis did a pretty good job of not swallowing his own tongue. "You looked at porn?"

"For _research_ ," Liam said, going red. He slid his fingers out of Louis' arse, ignoring Louis' whine of protest, and wiped them on a tissue. 

Louis shifted so that he was on his back, and refused to let go of Liam's hand, tugging Liam's attention back to him through force of will alone. "I mean seriously, you were looking at porn on the internet?"

"I wanted to make sure we were prepared."

"Did you wank off to it?" Louis' family computer was always downstairs, and after one illicit foray into the world of late night pornography had been interrupted when his mum had come downstairs to make a cup of peppermint tea, Louis hadn't exactly had that much of an opportunity to look online. "God, I love thinking about you touching yourself. You should do that in front of me, it would be like, I don't know, wank fodder for months."

"Wank fodder?"

"Shut up, I think about you all the time." He wrapped his hand around his dick, just to remind himself that he was going to get to come at some point soon. He was going to come with Liam's dick in his arse. He had to squeeze his dick to stop from getting too over excited at that. Fuck. 

Liam stilled, the lube in his hand. "You think about me when you—when you're coming?"

"Yes," Louis said patiently. "I used to do this back when I was a hundred per cent heterosexual too, we've been through this. I'm an idiot."

"You're not," Liam told him, fiercely. "You're perfect, shut up."

Louis blushed at that. He lifted his hips a bit, trying to get comfortable. He picked up the condom from the sheet beside him. "You want a hand putting this on?"

Liam swallowed. He glanced at Louis, and then back at the condom. "Yes?"

"Come here, then." Louis tore the corner of the packet off, and dropped it over the side of the bed. He poked at the condom a bit. It had an odd texture, kind of slippery and dry all at the same time. "Which way does it go?"

"I think you just try and figure out which way it rolls down." It was a bit difficult to concentrate when Liam was kneeling next to him with an erection. Liam wasn't exactly small, although Louis didn't have that much to compare to, other than the changing rooms after games. He couldn't quite imagine how Liam's dick was going to fit in his arse at all, let alone contemplate a condom as well. His chest felt a bit tight. 

He fumbled with the condom, determined to get it right. "This way," he said. 

"All right," Liam said. "You need to pinch the tip. I read it on the internet."

"You looked this up?"

"I cleared my browser history after."

Louis made a face. "What did you look up? How to put a condom on a banana?"

"Yes?"

"I love you," Louis said, as fervently as he could manage. "Were there pictures?"

"Yes, and you have to pinch the tip to ensure that reservoir doesn't have air pockets, and I have to move my foreskin back like _this_ —"

"There were never instructions for what to do with your foreskin, that's fucking mental."

"There were. You have to gently pull it back—see, just be glad I didn't bring my notes, but I remembered _gentle_ , at least—and then roll the condom down. Like that, see?"

"Well, you learn something new every day," Louis said, to cover the fact that his mouth was dry and his heart was pounding. Liam was so hard. He was so hard, and he was going to fuck Louis, and somehow all of Liam's dick had to fit in Louis' arse, and Louis wasn't entirely sure that was a feat of physics that was going to work. "What's it feel like? Wearing one?"

"Dunno," Liam said. He kept staring down at his cock. "I mean—I don't know, can I just kiss you?"

Louis nodded. "Please," he said, reaching for him. Liam was already leaning in and covering Louis' mouth with his own, licking his way into Louis' mouth, and Louis wasn't ready for that. He wrapped his arms around Liam's back, pulling him down on top of him. Liam went awkwardly, his dick against Louis' hip, one hand holding the condom in place. 

He grinned against Louis' mouth. "You happy you're here?"

Louis slid one hand down over Liam's warm, golden skin, the muscles flexing beneath his fingertips as he stroked his hand over Liam's arse, and round to his erection. "I think _you're_ happy I'm here."

Liam kissed him again. "Yeah, but are you?"

"Idiot," Louis said, in between kisses. "I think you're basically the best person in the world."

"Still haven't answered the question."

Louis rolled his eyes. He opened his legs so that Liam could better position himself there; he rocked his hips up to rub his dick against Liam's thigh. "I love you," he said, finally, when it still looked like Liam wasn't quite getting it. "I'm happy when I'm with you." He blushed. "Happy now?"

Liam ran his hand down Louis' thigh, curving his fingers around Louis' knee, shifting Louis' position a bit so that he had his knee up. "I just wanted to make sure before we—you know."

"Fucked," Louis suggested helpfully, hopefully covering up just how nervous he was. He lifted his other knee up too, bringing them to his chest as Liam sat back on his heels. This was what he was supposed to be doing, right? Liam must be getting a right eye full. He blushed; his arse was on show, and so were his balls. He was glad it was Liam who got to be his first. It was weird, knowing what Liam was looking at right now, but it didn't feel weird being here with him. That part felt right. 

"Isn't there a better word than fucked?" Liam asked. He kept touching the back of Louis' thighs, stroking his hand over Louis' skin like it was something to be revered. It was weird. 

Weird, and oddly, beautifully intimate. 

"Like what?" Louis' breath hitched as Liam stroked the crook of his finger over Louis' balls. 

"I don't know. Make love? Fucked doesn't sound romantic."

" _Make love_ sounds rubbish," Louis said. "Fucking's romantic. You're romantic. This is romantic." 

Liam stroked his fingers down underneath Louis' balls, and the skin behind them was so, so sensitive. Louis' breath caught in his throat. He didn't think he'd ever touched himself there, not even by accident. Washing didn't count. "I want all of this to be romantic," Liam said. 

"It's romantic," Louis persisted. "You're touching my balls, what's not romantic about that? Balls are like, the definition of romance, I think."

"But _make love_ at least makes it sound like I'm in love with you," Liam was making his best stubborn face.

"Fine, we'll call it _make love_ if you want, but it sounds wanky. And I know you're in love with me."

Liam blushed. "Well, I am."

"Good," Louis' voice caught as the crook of Liam's finger brushed his hole. "Jesus, fuck, okay. I don't even care what you call it, just do it. Please." He wanted Liam inside of him. He was about four seconds away from begging. 

Liam squeezed some lube out onto his palm, wrapping his hand around his dick. 

Louis couldn't breathe. He watched, mouth dry, as Liam pumped out a little more lube onto his fingertip and stroked it over his hole. 

"Just in case, okay," Liam said. He palmed Louis' thigh. "You ready?" He looked as nervous as Louis felt. 

"Uh-huh," Louis bit his lip. He fisted his hands in the sheets. He really, really hoped it didn't hurt. 

"I won't hurt you, I promise," Liam said, as if he was reading Louis' mind. "Tell me if it hurts and we'll stop."

Louis nodded. "Okay."

Liam lined himself up, moving Louis a little bit so that the angle was right. 

When he started to push inside of him, Louis swallowed down a desperate, cut-off whine. He was a little bit less hard than he had been a minute ago.

"Does that hurt?" Liam had stopped moving. 

"No." Louis couldn't explain how it felt, the tip of Liam's dick inside of him. He wriggled a bit. It was invasive, and sort of—backwards, but more than that, it was intensely, desperately, _good_. "Keep going."

Liam groaned, sliding in a little further, one hand to the base of his cock. "Tell me to stop."

Louis shook his head. "I don't want you to." It was so—there weren't words in his vocabulary to describe this. He felt _full_ , and that was great, and his dick was back to being as hard as ever. He wrapped his hand around it, thumb across the slit. "God, Liam. That feels—don't stop. Just, I don't know... move, or something."

"We're so crap at this," Liam said, and it sounded like he was trying to laugh, but it caught in his throat. "I can't believe I'm inside of you." He still wasn't moving. Louis really, really wanted him to move. 

"This isn't crap, this is brilliant." Louis could feel the sweat beading on his forehead. "Fuck, Liam. I mean it. Move."

"Want you to do it to me too, sometime." Liam slowly, slowly rolled his hips up, and then back again. 

Louis gasped out a breath. "Do that again."

Liam did. Again, and again, and again, until Louis was begging him to go faster, to fuck in and out of him harder, to just keep going. He fisted his dick, knowing that Liam was watching, that he could see, that it was getting him off. 

Louis could feel his orgasm building inside of him, sliding across his skin, right down to his toes and his fingertips. He wanked himself faster, harder, breathless. Liam fucked into him, and his muscles burned as Liam held him still, hand to his thigh, and maybe this was what he needed, what he wanted, what was _right_. He wanted Liam to hold him down, to crowd him back against the pillows, to crawl over him and wank him off and keep him there. He babbled it all out, unable to keep quiet, and Liam whined, fingers splayed across his skin, and rolled his hips up. 

"Gonna do that to you," Liam told him, his rhythm stumbling into something staccato and off-key. He had to be close. "Whatever you want. I'll do it. God. Love you."

Louis' stomach twisted. He was going to come. He was so close. Just another minute more, and he'd be there. But then Liam's hips jerked up, and he made a kind of choked off, desperate noise that went straight to Louis' dick, and then—then he was coming, and he was coming inside of Louis, and Louis couldn't remember how to breathe. All he could do was move his hand on his dick as Liam slid out of him, collapsing down next to him on the sheets, his chest heaving. 

"God," Louis managed. " _Liam_."

Liam rolled off the condom into a handful of tissues, dumping it over the side of the bed without a second look, and then shifted onto his side, arm across Louis' chest, pinning him down.

Holding him there. 

_Christ_ , Louis thought. His hand was a blur on his dick. 

"I was inside you," Liam told him, almost in wonder. His face was flushed red. His forehead shone with sweat. 

Louis gasped out a breath, his hips rolling, holding himself up as he finished himself off. He tipped his head back on the sheets, biting back a groan. "Kiss me," he said. "Liam, kiss me."

Liam leaned over, moving his arm away from Louis' stomach, cupped Louis' face in his hands and kissed him. He kissed Louis' long groan away, then his breathless whine. He kissed him as Louis forgot how to kiss back, forgot how to do anything but come, as he twisted on the sheets and gave into it, and came. 

It was a while before he opened his eyes again. Liam was plastered to his side, arm across his waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck. 

"I love you," Liam said, without opening his eyes. 

Louis slid his hand into Liam's curly hair, and rubbed his nose against his forehead. The room smelled like spunk and sweat and come and them. They'd have to open a window before Nicola came home, god. That could be later, though. Later. 

He rolled over, sliding a knee in between Liam's legs. There was come drying on his belly, and he was a mess, and his dick was protesting the heat and the sweat and wanting a shower, but he didn't make any move to leave. He wrapped his arms around Liam's neck, pressing as close as he could. Everything was sticky and way too hot, but he just wanted to be closer. 

"We're revolting," Liam said, in a muffled voice. 

"Shut up, we're cuddling," Louis said. He hit Liam as gently as he could without letting go of him. "This is quiet time, shush."

"We'll fall asleep."

He'd never fallen asleep with someone before. Not properly, not like this. It felt like a different kind of intimate. He held onto Liam even tighter. "That's the plan, dickhead." He kissed Liam's hair. 

"You say the sweetest things," Liam told him sleepily.

"Yeah, and you're my best friend, and I'm in love with you, so go the fuck to sleep."

Liam laughed at that, a huff of warm breath against Louis' even warmer skin. 

Louis closed his eyes, and didn't let go.

**TWENTY ONE.  
Liam.**

In the morning, Louis woke him up with a kiss and a cup of tea. "Morning."

"You taste minty." Liam rubbed sleepily at his eyes, sitting up on his elbows. He blinked away sleep and yawned, looking for the alarm clock by the bed. It was just after nine. 

"Cleaned my teeth whilst the kettle was boiling, didn't I?" Louis put his cup of tea down on the bedside table next to Liam's, and crawled over him, positioning himself so that he could roll his hips down over Liam's. "Quite like this being naked with you thing."

"Right back at you," Liam said, sliding his hands down into the small of Louis' back, and down over his arse. He still couldn't quite believe he got to do that. Louis really did have the most fantastic bum. 

"All my muscles hurt," Louis told him, running his thumbs across Liam's jaw. Liam really liked how that felt. "I think it's because you fucked me so well."

"Um," Liam managed. He could feel himself going red. 

"You fucked me really hard," Louis went on. "Really, really hard, Liam. And you wanked me off in the shower. You're like a sex _god_. A god of sexing. That's you."

"You wanked me off too." Liam was still blushing. Louis had that effect on him. They'd snoozed for a couple of hours the previous night, before waking up stuck together in a particularly gross kind of way, so they'd hit the shower for a bit of a freshen up. They'd stayed in there kissing for so long, they'd ended up running the hot water out. There had been orgasms too, shower-wet hand jobs, but mostly it had just been endless, endless kissing. 

It had been perfect, actually. And the shower gel he'd got from Aldi had smelled really nice too. An excellent seventy-nine pence spent. 

"You know what my favourite bit was?" Louis said, taking a sip of his tea. "I mean, like, not of the whole day or anything. But my favourite after-shower bit?"

Liam shook his head. "What?"

Louis put his tea back down, leaned in, and touched his mouth to Liam's ear. "Watching you wank yourself off."

It was okay, Liam was just going to stay this shade of bright tomato red for the foreseeable future. "You did it too." He was going to be thinking about Louis touching himself for a _long_ time. 

"Yes, but you got all shy. It was really cute."

And to think, two months ago, Louis had been convinced he was straight. They'd both come a long way, but Louis had come the furthest. 

"Are you happy?" Liam asked, before he could tell himself not to.

Louis looked confused. "What?"

"Just—I don't know, okay. Two months ago you would have hated this."

"No, two months ago I would have loved this, but I would have been pretending I didn't." He ran his hands down Liam's chest. "Are you really worried that I made the wrong choice?"

"No." Liam shook his head. He was sure of Louis' feelings for him. He was sure that Louis was just as gay as he said he was. It wasn't that. But how to explain? "You were unhappy," he said finally. "Thinking you were gay made you upset, and that was rubbish. I just—I was asking if you were happier, that's all. Being you."

Louis swallowed. "I like cock," he said, finally. "I thought saying that out loud would be the worst thing ever. I thought it would mean I hated myself, and everyone hated me. But it doesn't. I like _me._ I like me when I'm with you, and I like me when I'm at home, and I like me when I'm with my mum. And the me I like, likes cock. I like being gay. I mean, I don't like those knob jockeys who make fun of us at school, or those guys in the pub last week, or that fuckwit on the telly that said people like me and you getting married would lead to him marrying his dog. But I like me. I like me, and I'm happy when I'm with you. Does that answer your question?"

"I like you too," Liam told him. "I like who you are. I like how brave you are—"

"I'm _not_ —"

"Shut up, I'm talking. Yes I learnt that off you. I like how brave you've been about doing things that terrify you, and don't think I don't know that you've been terrified."

"It's stupid. I shouldn't be scared."

Liam shrugged. "Some of this stuff is really scary. But you've done it anyway. That's brave." 

Louis didn't say anything to that. He ran his thumb over Liam's nipple instead. "I'm happy when I'm with you. I'm brave when I'm with you."

"You're brave all by yourself," Liam said, covering Louis' hand with his own. He kissed Louis' palm. "This got serious, fast, didn't it?"

Louis managed half a smile. "Me and you got serious, fast, too." He laced his fingers into Liam's. "After A levels—I mean, I've been thinking. I don't want to go away to uni. I don't want to leave Mum to look after my sisters without any help. But there are all the teaching courses here, and they do a drama one, I looked it up. And you were talking about that sound stuff, but you can do it here, too, right? So, I know it's like—it's well early. There's all of year thirteen and everything, but—me and you. Here. Together. Like—for the long term."

Liam's mouth felt very dry all of a sudden. He nodded. "Yeah," he said. "That sounds—yeah."

"Yeah," Louis said. "I mean, unless we do what Niall keeps going on about, and all five of us audition for X Factor and take over the world."

Liam laughed at that. "Can you imagine?"

"Right?" Louis agreed. "He's going to make us audition, though. You know that, right?"

"It'll be a laugh," Liam said. "We can go out after the audition, just the five of us. It'll be great."

"Nine of us," Louis said. "He's getting the girls to audition too. Danielle and Eleanor have said a definite no, but the others are all in. Maybe we'll all be famous. They'll play us on Radio 1."

"That would be amazing." Liam tilted his chin up for a kiss. "You hungry? I bought bacon. Thought we could have bacon sandwiches for breakfast. I'll make one for you, if you want."

"How about I make one for you, instead?" Louis kissed him, nipping at his lip with his teeth. "I'm fucking wicked at bacon sandwiches. I'm a bacon king. You can watch me if you like, and learn from the master."

Liam kissed him again, hands at the small of Louis' back. "I'd love to," he said, and Louis grinned against his mouth. 

"Excellent," Louis said. "Drink your tea before it goes cold."

"Aye, aye," Liam said, and smiled. 

**[End]**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a birthday gift, **Harriet_Vane** , this is terribly late. I hope you don't mind. ♥
> 
> If you too wish to see the kind of advice teen magazines were hurling at teenagers in the eighties so you too can jazz up your clothes using just some lampshade fringing, a la Louis' mum, then [I was helpful and took some pictures of the vast array of annuals my sisters had.](http://magicalrocketships.tumblr.com/post/54853614540/teen-mags-eighties-style)
> 
> Thanks for reading. ♥
> 
> And yes, there is a Nick/Harry sequel in the planning stages.


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